It happened, however, that when General Legaie and Dr. Cary called on Colonel Krafton, two other visitors from their county had been to see that officer: Hiram Still and Leech.
The two gentlemen were kept waiting for some time after their names had been taken in by the sentinel before they were admitted to the Chief Provost’s presence, and every minute of that period the General grew hotter and hotter, and walked up and down the little ante-room with more and more dignity.
“Dr. Johnson before Lord Chesterfield,” said the Doctor, laughing at his friend’s impatience and indignation.
“Dr. Johnson before a dog!” was the little General’s retort. “Why, sir, I never treated a negro in my life as he has treated us.”
At last, however, they were admitted.
The officer, a stout man with closely cropped iron-gray hair, a lowering brow and a heavy jaw, was seated at his desk writing. He did not look up when they entered, but said, “Sit down,” and wrote on. When he was through, he called out, and a sentinel entered.
“Send that off at once—or—wait where you are. I may have another to send.” He turned to the two visitors who were still standing.
“Well?”
“I am Major Cary,” that gentleman said, advancing, “And this is General Legaie.” He bowed gravely.
“Oh! I know you,” said the officer. He turned to his desk and searched for something.