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“‘Is there no way,’ she said in a gasping whisper, ‘of stopping this? These two armies are like hordes of demons! Humanity should not permit it!’

“‘Humanity has nothing to do with it,’ said the Exceptional Pedestrian. ‘A declaration of war eliminates humanity as a social factor. Such is the usage of nations.’

“‘I don’t care for the usage of nations,’ said Almia. ‘It is vile!’

“Now something very important happened in the battle-field. The Commander-in-Chief rose in his stirrups and peered afar. Then, suddenly turning, he sent his only remaining follower with clattering hoofs to carry a message. ‘He is making it worse!’ declared Almia. ‘Now more brave men will fall; more blood will flow.’

“‘Of course,’ said the Exceptional Pedestrian. ‘He gives no thought to the falling of brave men or the flowing of blood. Upon his commands depends the fate of the battle!’

“‘And without his commands?’ asked Almia, trembling in every fibre.

“The Exceptional Pedestrian shrugged his shoulders and slightly smiled. ‘Without them,’ he said, ‘there would soon be an end to the battle. He is the soul, the directing spirit, of his army. Unless he directs, the contest cannot be carried on.’

“Almia sprang to her feet, not caring whether she was seen or not. She looked over the battle-field, and her heart was sick within her. Not only did she see the carnage which desecrated the beautiful plain, but she saw, far, far away, the mothers and sisters of those who were dead, dying, and wounded; she saw the whiteness of their faces when their feverish eyes should scan the list of dead and wounded; she saw them groan and fall senseless when they read the names of loved ones. She could bear no more.

“Suddenly she turned. ‘Gentlemen,’ she said, ‘follow me.’ And without another word she stepped out into the open field and walked rapidly toward the Commander-in-Chief, whose eyes were fixed so steadfastly on the battle that he did not notice her approach. The three soldiers gazed at her in amazement, and then they followed her. They could not understand her mad action, but they could not desert her.

“Almia stopped at the horse’s head. With her left hand she seized his bridle, and in a clear, loud voice she exclaimed, ‘Commander-in-Chief, you are my prisoner!’ There was no trembling, no nervousness now; body and soul, she was as hard as steel. The general looked down upon her in petrified bewilderment. He gazed at the three soldiers, and again looked down at her. ‘Girl!’ he thundered, ‘what do you mean? Let go my horse!’ As he said these words he gave his bridle a jerk; but the noble steed paid no attention to his master. He was not afraid of girls. In former days he had learned to like them; to him a girl meant sugar and savory clover-tops. He bent his head toward Almia, and instantly her hand was in her pocket and she drew forth an Albert biscuit. The horse, which had not tasted food since morning, eagerly took it from her hand, and crunched it in delight.

“The Commander-in-Chief now became furious, and his hand sought the hilt of his sword. If Almia had been a man he would have cut her down. ‘Girl!’ he cried, ‘what do you mean? Are you insane? You men, remove her instantly.’

“Then Almia spoke up bravely, never loosening her hold upon the bridle of the horse. ‘I am not insane,’ she said. ‘I am a nurse, but not a common one; I am a bushwhacker nurse, and that means I am entirely independent. These men are under my control. They are from the opposing armies, and compel each other to obey my commands. I have determined to stop this blood and slaughter. If you do not quietly surrender to me I will fire at one of your legs, and call upon the soldier who is your enemy to attack you with his sword. His duty to his country will compel him to do so.’