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:  Damn 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?

Malins:  In the barn, I believe, sir.

Grant:  Dennis.

Dennis (coming from his table):  Yes, sir.

Grant:  Ask them to bring Scott in here.

DENNIS goes.

I want to see Colonel West.  Malins, ask Templeman if those figures are ready yet.

He goes, and MALINS follows.

Lincoln:_ Will you, Hay?

HAY goes.  After a moment, during which LINCOLN takes the book that MALINS has been reading from, and looks into it, WILLIAM SCOTT is brought in under guard.  He is a boy of twenty.

Lincoln (to the GUARD):  Thank you.  Wait outside, will you?

The MEN salute and withdraw.

Are you William Scott?

Scott:  Yes, sir.

Lincoln:  You know who I am?

Scott:  Yes, sir.

Lincoln:  The General tells me you’ve been court-martialled.

Scott:  Yes sir.

Lincoln:  Asleep on guard?

Scott:  Yes, sir.

Lincoln:  It’s a very serious offence.

Scott:  I know, sir.

Lincoln:  What was it?

Scott (a pause):  I couldn’t keep awake, sir.

Lincoln:  You’d had a long march?

Scott:  Twenty-three miles, sir.

Lincoln:  You were doing double guard?

Scott:  Yes, sir.

Lincoln:  Who ordered you?

Scott:  Well, sir, I offered.

Lincoln:  Why?

Scott:  Enoch White—­he was sick, sir.  We come from the same place.