There was of a sudden some disturbance about the larger of the more remote cabins; a soldier ran out followed by a screaming young woman. Her wild cries attracted attention to the man, who was at once caught and held while he vainly protested. The men about Josiah sat up or got on their feet. The young woman ran here and there among the groups of soldiers like one distracted. At last, near the larger house at the roadside she fell on her knees and rocked backwards and forwards sobbing. Josiah at a distance saw only that a soldier had been caught trying to escape notice as a young woman followed him out of the house. It was too well understood by the angry men who crowded around the captive.
The general said to his staff, "Wait here, gentlemen." He rode through the crowd of soldiers, saying, "Keep back, my men; keep away—all of you." Then he dismounted and walked to where the girl—she was hardly more—still knelt wailing and beating the air with uplifted hands. "Stand up, my good girl, and tell me what is wrong."
The voice was low and of a certain gentleness, rarely rising even in moments of peril. She stood up, "I can't—I can't—let me go—I want to die!"
The figure, still slight of build in those days, bent over her pitiful. "I am General Grant. Look up at me. There shall be justice done, but I must know."
She looked up a moment at the kind grave face, then with bent head and hands over her eyes she sobbed out what none but the general could hear. His voice grew even more distinctly soft as touching her shoulder he said, "Look at that man. Oh, bring him near—nearer. Now, be sure, is that the man? Look again! I must be certain."
With a quick motion she pushed his hand from her shoulder as she stood, and pointing to the brute held by two soldiers cried, "That's him—oh, my God! Take him away—kill him. Le' me go. Don't you keep me." She looked about like some hopelessly trapped, wild-eyed animal.
"You may go, of course," said the low-voiced man. "I will set a guard over your house."
"Don't want no Yankee guard—le' me go—I've got nothin' to guard—I want to die." She darted away and through the parting groups of men who were clear enough about what they knew had happened and what should be done.
The dark grey eyes of the General followed her flight for a pitying instant. Then he remounted, and said to the scared captive, "What have you got to say?"
"It's all a lie."