“‘Billy,’ said I, ‘you are a credit to your regiment, to say nothing of your Yankee mother. Come here in an hour, and I’ll see you have the tobacco.’
“Some enterprising dealer in the North had received a contract for that lot of stuff, and we had really, for the time being, an overabundance, so that it was by no means a difficult matter for me to secure two half-pound packets, done up in blue paper, and in about as short a time as it takes to tell the story, Billy Forbes had it tucked away, and went whistling back to his post.
“It was a clear, soft, starlit night. I sat up attending to various duties—listening to the fussy complaints and talk of one of my colleagues in command, who had it on the brain, and felt we were disgraced not knowing how to get in there. Somehow, I relied on my friend Billy to win the day by his fair ‘exchange,’ and he didn’t fail me.
“Towards morning I went down to the bridge, having sent a relief for the lad, who came back simply grinning.
“‘Easy as could be,’ he whispered. ‘Here you are, sir.’
“And from the depths of his trousers he produced the coveted little sheets.
“‘Billy,’ said I, ‘when the war is over you are likely to be a great man.’
“And I turned in to read the news.
“About ten o’clock I received an awful message, in answer to which I started post-haste for the guard-house, meeting my anxious comrade Captain Hubert on the way.
“‘A nice mess your protégé is in, Lieutenant!’ he exclaimed. ‘I’ve had to put him under arrest, and he’s doomed, sir, doomed. Will no doubt be shot, and a good warning to all like him.’