_Malins_: By G.o.d, sir, it will be splendid, won't it, to be back again?

_Grant_: By G.o.d, sir, it will.

_Malins_: I beg your pardon, sir.

_Grant_: You're quite right, Malins. My boy goes away to school next week. Now I may be able to go down with him and see him settled.

DENNIS _comes back_.

_Dennis_: Colonel West says, yes, sir, for the last half-hour. The cook says he's sorry, sir. It was a mistake.

_Grant_: Tell him to keep his mistakes in the kitchen.

_Dennis_: I will, sir.

_He goes back to his place.

Grant (at his papers_): Those rifles went up this afternoon?

_Malins_: Yes, sir.

_Another_ ORDERLY _comes in.

Orderly_: Mr. Lincoln has just arrived, sir. He's in the yard now.

_Grant_: All right, I'll come.

THE ORDERLY _goes_. GRANT _rises and crosses to the door, but is met there by_ LINCOLN _and_ HAY. LINCOLN, _in top boots and tall hat that has seen many campaigns, shakes hands with_ GRANT _and takes_ MALINS'S _salute_.

_Grant:_ I wasn't expecting you, sir.

_Lincoln_: No; but I couldn't keep away. How's it going?

_They sit_.

_Grant_: Meade sent word an hour and a half ago that Lee was surrounded all but two miles, which was closing in.

_Lincoln_: That ought about to settle it, eh?

_Grant_: Unless anything goes wrong in those two miles, sir. I'm expecting a further report from Meade every minute.

_Lincoln_: Would there be more fighting?

_Grant_: It will probably mean fighting through the night, more or less. But Lee must realise it's hopeless by the morning.

_An Orderly (entering)_: A despatch, sir.

_Grant_: Yes.

THE ORDERLY _goes, and a_ YOUNG OFFICER _comes in from the field. He salutes and hands a despatch to_ GRANT.

_Officer_: From General Meade, sir.

_Grant (taking it_): Thank you.

_He opens it and reads_.

You needn't wait.

THE OFFICER _salutes and goes_.

Yes, they've closed the ring. Meade gives them ten hours. It's timed at eight. That's six o'clock in the morning.

_He hands the despatch to_ LINCOLN.

_Lincoln_: We must be merciful. Bob Lee has been a gallant fellow.

_Grant (taking a paper_): Perhaps you'll look through this list, sir.

I hope it's the last we shall have.

_Lincoln (taking the paper_): It's a horrible part of the business, Grant. Any shootings?

_Grant_: One.

_Lincoln_: d.a.m.n it, Grant, why can't you do without it? No, no, of course not? Who is it?

_Grant_: Malins.

_Malins (opening a book_): William Scott, sir. It's rather a hard case.

_Lincoln_: What is it?

_Malins_: He had just done a heavy march, sir, and volunteered for double guard duty to relieve a sick friend. He was found asleep at his post.

_He shuts the book_.

_Grant_: I was anxious to spare him. But it couldn't be done. It was a critical place, at a gravely critical time.

_Lincoln_: When is it to be?

_Matins_: To-morrow, at daybreak, sir.

_Lincoln_: I don't see that it will do him any good to be shot. Where is he?

_Malins_: Here, sir.

_Lincoln_: Can I go and see him?

_Grant_: Where is he?