the following night he had taken the place of a comrade too ill to stand

guard. The third night he had been again called out, and, being utterly

exhausted, had fallen asleep at his post.



As soon as Mr. Lincoln understood the case, he signed a pardon, and

sent it to the camp. The morning before the execution arrived, and the

President had not heard whether the pardon had reached the officers in

charge of the matter. He began to feel uneasy. He ordered a telegram to

be sent to the camp, but received no answer. State papers could not

fix his mind, nor could he banish the condemned soldier boy from his

thoughts.



At last, feeling that he MUST KNOW that the lad was safe, he ordered

the carriage and rode rapidly ten miles over a dusty road and beneath

a scorching sun. When he reached the camp he found that the pardon had

been received and the execution stayed.



The sentinel was released, and his heart was filled with lasting

gratitude. When the campaign opened in the spring, the young man was

with his regiment near Yorktown, Virginia. They were ordered to attack a

fort, and he fell at the first volley of the enemy.



His comrades caught him up and carried him bleeding and dying from the

field. "Bear witness," he said, "that I have proved myself not a coward,

and I am not afraid to die." Then, making a last effort, with his dying

breath he prayed for Abraham Lincoln.