"To her!" he answered, and drove the reply home with clenched jaws.
The General relaxed—and smiled.
"Another fine distinction," he said, resuming his seat. He knocked the ashes from his cigar and presently looked up with another one of those terribly vital questions which came so simply from his lips. "Did you ever penetrate the Federal lines by means of a uniform—of blue?"
The Confederate drew back as he felt the assault on his rights as a soldier.
"As to that, General Grant, there is—"
"Answer me!" came the sharp command. "'Yes' or 'No'!"
"One moment, General," interrupted Harris, with a lawyer's quick objection. "If—"
"No interference, Harris," came the curt order. "Answer me, Captain. 'Yes' or 'No'!"
The Southerner's face flushed and he threw back his head with the superb defiance that General Grant knew so well—which was his one eternal stumbling block, and due to continue for another full year of blood.
"Under the rulings of court-martial law," the Confederate Captain said in ringing tones, "I deny even your right to the question."