CHAPTER I. - A SOLDIER IN DISGRACE.

" It is a painful duty, Captain Morland, but, you, I think, understand my position."

"And I am dishonored?" faltered the other, a noble-looking man of twenty-three or four, who had heartily espoused the Confederate cause and already won distinction under Johnston, who was then entrenched at Dalton, anxiously awaiting the advance of Sherman, then on his memorable march to the sea. "On what ground is the charge made against me?" continued the aggrieved officer.

" Sympathy, even assistance, in the escape a few nights since of Cavalry Curt, Sherman's scout,"

" But I am innocent of that. As heaven is my witness I had no more to do with that than you. It is true he and I were college mates at one time, and when he was captured and condemned to die and I was assigned to the unpleasant task of executing him, I refused to do it. Beyond that I had nothing to do with his escape. I __”

"But your sister, who is in love with the Yank, came here disguised and got him away. Your grandfather died at your home last night with his dying breath uttering treason against the cause of the States. I am sorry for——"

"Never mind," broke in the other, impatiently. "Even if my commission is stripped from me I have one favor to ask "

"And that?"

" Is that I may bear a musket in the detachment to be sent out to-day to beat back Howard's corps now marching upon us. I will show them the color of my loyalty."

" Good for you, cap. I never doubted your loyalty and I will see what can be done for you. But don't be rash my boy. It will all come out right in the end."

General Johnston, as we have said, had concentrated his forces at Dalton while General Sherman was slowly and carefully advancing upon him.

Thomas had succeeded in driving the Confederate cavalry from the outposts of
Tunnel Hill and made a bold dash for the summits.

But the Confederate troops had been well prepared to receive him, so a short though sharp engagement had followed.

Really, however, the western commander had had little expectations of carrying the place and his move had been made as a cover for the purpose of allowing McPherson to gain Resaca.

But through one of his scouts, the well-known Boyd Wyman, Johnston had been apprized of his enemy's real designs. So he dispatched a division of his troops to head off Schofield at Wing Ridge, the objective point of Harmon's relief corps.

As a common soldier the disgraced Captain Morland went with these troops which were expected to see some sharp fighting.

About two o'clock in the afternoon the first gun was fired and the battle soon waxed hot.

Newton, who was in command of the northern troops, suddenly finding his way thus obstructed quickly prepared for an assault.

A bold rush was then made upon the enemy, but they manfully held their own, and Newton was compelled to draw off his forces.

A reconnoitering party was then sent to " feel out" the enemy's weakest place.

Meanwhile preparations were made for another charge.

At half-past three Newton again assaulted the enemy's breastworks to be again repulsed.

Smoke-begrimed and suffering from three slight wounds the commander looked grimly upon his troops.

"Are we to be driven back by a handful of grays like that?" he exclaimed. "At them again, boys! We will show them this time that we are of better mettle."

For the third time the gallant troops dashed up the hill.

The enemy poured down a galling fire, which thinned the front ranks to a decimal.

Others were ready to take the place of the fallen, however, and with an unbroken front the hardy troops pressed resolutely forward.

"Now! double-quick—charge"

Breaking into a smart run the boys in blue soon reached the breastworks.

Then it was hand to hand.

Man grappled with man and for a time it seemed a drawn game.

There were only a handful of the Con federates, but they fought like tigers.

But the odds soon began to tell.

At this critical moment the Confederate flag went down, bathed in blood.

" We are lost!" exclaimed its commander.

Hark! what cry is that?

It is a shout that bears the ring of victory.

Firing has been opened on the Federal flank.

Harmon's detachment is sweeping on to the rescue of their beleaguered friends.

Major Varney gained courage. Rallying his shattered forces they strove more madly than ever to beat back the persistent foe.

As if to counter-balance the weight of Harmon's troops thrown so suddenly upon him, Maxwell's division in the reserve came to the rescue of Newton.

The skirmish was growing to a goodly-sized battle.

In the front ranks of Harmon's corps was Harry Morland.

He fought like a madman, those say who saw him.

Apparently deaf to the cries of humanity he stood where others fell as if bearing a charmed life.

Just as he was urging his men on to a final charge Harmon fell.

This disaster was a fatal blow to the Confederates.

Cut off by Maxwell's division from those at the front the troops broke in disorder.

Broke when victory seemed in their grasp.

The colors which had been raised a second time again fell.

" Once more, boys, charge!" thundered Newton, seeing their advantage.

Harry Morland, his gun shivered and useless, the blood streaming down his face from a saber wound, saw the flag he was fighting for go down.

He saw his troops breaking away in wild confusion.

He heard the triumphant cries of his foes.

Realized that the tide of the battle had turned against them; he reeled backward with a groan.

Then his eyes flashing, his countenance streaming a look of mad defiance, he sprang forward into the very front of the foe, crying: " All who are not cowards follow me! Forward, boys, charge!"

The ringing words sounded clear above the din of the strife.

The sight of his daring attack nerved the panic-stricken to renewed work.

The column wheeled.

The air filled with their cries they dashed up the hill upon the heels of their reckless leader.

Harry reached the breastworks.

Clearing a path before him he reached the tattered flag to snatch it from the earth.

Swinging it above his head he shouted: "They called me a traitor yesterday! What do you think of this?"

The next moment the Federals poured into their midst a raking fire.

One of the bullets struck Harry Morland, and with the flag still in his hands he sank to the earth lifeless!

The hero had done his work.

The desperate rally, however, reaped its harvest.

The northern lines were forced back and Newton's troops left the field in confusion.

Wing Ridge, through the bravery of one man, was saved to the Confederacy.

Howard nor Schofield got no nearer to Dalton.

It was a dear bought victory, for the loss was heavy on both sides considering the time and number engaged.

One, however, among the slain had washed out the stains of wrong upon his record.

When the list of the dead was reported not private but Captain Harry Morland's name was there.

" He told me," said an old soldier, as he stood over the lifeless form, "that he was coining up here to die!"

Truly he had kept his word.