"Thank you, sir."

"Now you shall go with me to General M----'s headquarters, and he will give you your final instructions."

Major Platner led the way; and Somers reverently followed a pace or two behind him, flattering the officer in every action as well as word. They reached the division headquarters, and our hero was ushered into the presence of the general. He was a large, red-faced man, and had evidently taken all the whiskey he could carry, at his dinner, from which he had just returned.

"What have you got there, Platner?" demanded the general, in a tone so rough, that Somers was reminded of the ogre in Jack the Giant-killer.

"The young man of whom I spoke to you this forenoon. He is a person of remarkable address, courage and skill; and is just the man you need."

"All right; adieu, major!" added the general, bowing to the other.

Major Platner took the hint, and took himself off, leaving Somers standing alone and somewhat abashed in the presence of the great man.

"Young man!" said, or rather roared, the rebel general, as he raised his eyes from the ground, and fixed them with a half-drunken leer upon our hero.

"Sir!"

"How much whiskey can you drink without going by the board?"

Somers did not know, had never tried the experiment, and was utterly opposed to all such practices. But he desired to conciliate the tipsy general; and, if he had not been fearful of being put to the test, he would have signified his belief that he could carry off half a dozen gla.s.ses. As it was, he did not dare to belie his principles.

"Not any, sir! I never drink whiskey," he replied, with the utmost deference in his tones.

"Hey?" gasped General M----, darting a sudden glance at the young man.

"I never drank a gla.s.s of whiskey in my life, sir," added Somers.

The general jumped off his camp-stool with a sudden jerk, and stared at our lieutenant in silence for an instant.

"Give me your hand," said he.

Somers extended his hand.

"Yes! you are flesh and blood. You are the first man I ever saw that never drank a gla.s.s of whiskey. You drink brandy, don't you?"

"No, sir! I never drank a gla.s.s of liquor or wine of any kind in my life."

"Give me your hand," said the general again.

"Flesh and blood! You are the first man I ever saw that never drank a gla.s.s of liquor or wine of any kind. 'Tis a bad practice," he added with an oath.

"I think so, sir," replied Somers with due deference.

"Young man!"

"Sir."

"The greatest enemy--hic--that the Confederate army has to contend against is whiskey. Yes, sir! whiskey. If the Confederate States of--hic--of America ever win their independence, it will be when the whiskey's all gone."

"I am very glad to hear officers of your high rank condemning the practice," said Somers, alive to the joke of the general's proceedings, but prudently looking as serious as though it had been a solemn tragedy instead of an awful farce.

"Yes, sir! I'm opposed with all my might to the practice. Yes, sir!

Whiskey is the greatest enemy I have on the face of the footstool, young man."

Somers believed him.

"Always be temperate, young man. You are in the sunshine of--hic--of life. Never drink whiskey. It will ruin your body and soul. Don't touch it, young man," added he, as he sank back on the camp-stool, whose center of gravity was nearly destroyed by the shock, and closed his eyes, as if overcome by the potency of his great enemy, which was just then beginning to have its full effect, and which produced a tendency to sleep.

"I will endeavor to profit by your good advice, sir," said Somers.

"That's right; do so," added the general, as he jerked up his head to banish the drowsy G.o.d, who was struggling for the possession of his senses. "That will do, young man. You may go now."

The general, in his drunken stupor, had certainly forgotten the business for which Major Platner had brought him to the division headquarters; and Somers began to fear that he should have no errand that day.

"I beg your pardon, general; but Major Platner was kind enough to say that you had some service for me to perform."

"Eh?" demanded he, tossing up his head again.

Somers repeated the remark more explicitly than before.

"Exactly so; I remember. Do you know what I was thinking about just then, young man?" said the general, spasmodically leaping to his feet again, as though the thought was full of inspiration.

"No, sir; a man in my humble position could hardly measure the thoughts of a great man in your situation."

"I'll tell you; I was thinking about issuing a division general order on the subject of temperance. What do you think of it?"

"It would be an excellent idea," replied Somers.

"Young man!"

"Sir."

"I believe you said--hic----"

Somers did not say anything of the sort; but he waited patiently for the rebel general to recover the idea which he appeared to have lost.

"I believe you said you never drank any whiskey?"

"I never did, sir."

"Then you never was drunk?"

"Never, sir."

"Young man!"

"Sir."