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"Surrender, Taylor! Surrender? Why, there's no such word--there's no such word--"

Lee and Alexander moved down to the little field table.

"We must decide," the Commander began, "what to do in case Gordon can't break through. How many guns in your command?"

"More than forty, sir. We've just captured a section of Federal artillery in perfect order."

"Forty guns! And Grant is circling us with five hundred--"

"We have fought big odds before. We have ammunition. The artillery has done little on this retreat. They're eager for a fight, if you wish to give battle."

"I can rally but eight thousand men for a final charge. They are tired and hungry. What have we got to do?"

"This means but one thing, then--"

"Well, sir?"

"Order the army to scatter--each man for himself. They can slip through the brush to-night like quail, and reach Johnston's army."

"You think this best?"

"It's the only thing to do, sir. Surrender--never. Scatter. And when Grant closes in to-morrow his hands will be empty. He'll find a few broken guns and wagons. Our men will be safe beyond his lines and ready to fight again."

"That's the plan!" Taylor joined.

"We can beat Grant that way, General. The Confederacy may win by delay.

At least by delay we can give the State Governments time to make their own terms as States. If you surrender, it's all over."

"I do not think the North will acknowledge the sovereignty of the States at this late day."

"It is reported that Lincoln has offered to accept the surrender of States and make terms--"

"This would, of course," Lee slowly answered, "prolong the war as long as one held out--"

"And don't forget, sir," Alexander urged stoutly, "that the single State of Texas is three times larger than France. She has countless head of cattle and horses on her plains. She can equip armies. Her warlike sons, with you to lead them, would laugh at conquest for the next ten years.

The territory of the South is too vast to be held except at a cost the North cannot afford to pay--"

"Armies may march across it," Taylor interrupted, "a million soldiers could not hold it _unless you surrender!_"

"Guerrilla warfare is a desperate resort," Lee answered sadly.

"There are things worse," Alexander cried passionately. "This army is ready to die to a man before we will submit to unconditional surrender.

The men who have fought under you for these three tragic years have the right to demand that you spare us this shame!"

"General Grant will not ask unconditional surrender. I have been in correspondence with him for two days. He has already put his terms in writing. They are generous. All officers may retain their swords and every horse go home for the spring plowing. He merely requires our parole not to take up arms again."

"He would offer no such terms," Alexander argued, "unless he knew you yet had a chance to win--"

Lee waved his hand.

"Our only chance is to continue the struggle by a fierce guerrilla war--"

"For God's sake, let's do it, sir!"

"Can we," the calm voice went on, "as Christian soldiers, choose such a course? We've fought bravely for what we believed to be right. If I enter a guerrilla struggle, what will be the result? Years of bloody savagery. Our own men, demoralized by war, would supply their wants by violence and plunder. I could not control them. And so raid and counter-raid. Houses pillaged and burned by friend and foe. Crops destroyed. All industry paralyzed. Women violated. We might force the Federal Government at last to make some sort of compromise. But at what a cost--what a cost!"

"You can control our men," Alexander maintained. "Your name is magic.

The South will obey you."

Lee gazed earnestly into the face of his gallant young Commander of Artillery and said:

"If I wield such power over our people, is it not a sacred trust? Is it not my duty now to use it for their healing, and not their ruin?"

General John B. Gordon suddenly rode up and sprang from his horse.

Lee eagerly turned.

"General Gordon--you have cut through?"

"I have secured a temporary truce to report to you in person, I have fought my corps to a frazzle. The road is still blocked and I cannot move."

"What is your advice?" Lee asked.

"Your decision settles it, sir."

A courier plunged toward the group on a foaming horse.

"Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry's broken through!" he shouted. "The way's opened. The whole army can pass!"

"I don't believe it," Gordon growled.

"It's too good to be true," Taylor said.

"It's true!" Alexander exclaimed, "of course it's true!"

"You come from Longstreet?" Lee inquired.

"Yes, sir. He asks instructions."

"Tell him to use his discretion. He's on the spot."

The courier wheeled and rode back as the crash of a musket rang out beside the baggage wagon.

"What's that?" Taylor asked sharply.

"It can't be an attack," Gordon wondered. "A truce is in force."

Sam rushed to Lee.

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