With a benign smile, Beltram motioned to an upended wooden crate, gesturing for Robert to sit. “There you are, major; we have been waiting. Sergeant Burns has arrived with the expected quarry report.”

“Thank you, sir,” Robert sat on the empty crate, pulling his cap from his head, and resting it on his knee. Pace was sitting stiffly, doing his best to hide his emotions. The moment ripped from the boy, understanding of war and life lost to the embarrassment caused by a senior officer. A chill claimed Robert. God help the General if Pace could repay the favor.

“Start from the beginning Sergeant,” Beltram used a burning twig to light his pipe.

“We found a vein of red granite at the north end of the field.” The Sergeant rattled the paper. Beltram’s aide and fixture commonly found near the colonel was a huge Irishman with a thick beard and accent, his voice made coarse as gravel from years of shouting over battlefields. There was a story among the troops that Burns had carried Beltram from the chaos of the disastrous Union attack on Antietam Bridge, then changed his name as a tribute to the battle.

“To reach the stone, we must remove forest, then work down several yards to reach the lode. At best, we can pull good stone after a few months of preparation.” Burns concluded.

“How much can we expect?” Colonel Beltram asked.

“About half the volume exposed in the working quarry, sir,” Burns estimated. “The vein drops diagonally and may expand or dry up; there is no way to know until we work the vein.”

“Winter will be here before we can begin mining from an uncertain source,” Beltram clarified.

“Yes Sir,” the Sergeant nodded assent.

“We can have lumber crews strip the area immediately.” General Cornell suggested. “It is not a change in hauling distance.”

“Perhaps we could mine a few yards off the west wall of the quarry,” Lieutenant Pace volunteered in an uncharacteristically timid voice.

The colonel and general paused and considered the interruption.

Robert bowed his head and worked to remain expressionless. The boy had not given up on his dangerous idea. It seemed more and more that Pace had a dangerous agenda hidden in his head.

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“We do not know the thickness of stone needed to maintain the structural strength of the west wall,” Beltram observed. “Remember Lieutenant, the force of the water and winter ice on the wall is tremendous.”

“We may well flood our winter shelter,” the General noted.

Robert cleared his throat. “That being said,” with a nod to Pace. “Some feel, and I concur, we should revisit the notion of barracks construction so we can mine the cave.”

General Cornell leaned forward with interest. “Back to that, Major? We agree above ground barracks are the best option, but we face the same constraints presented in mining a new quarry. There is simply not enough time to do anything other than mine and purchase supplies prior to the onset of winter.”

“We must not underestimate the severity of winter in this portion of the country.” Came the stern reply from Beltram. “First the entire lake freezes, then it moves and becomes a barrier. Any ship or man caught on that ice will die. Only men like Captain Marsh have the knowledge to survive the ice.” The colonel paused, thinking. He tapped the pipe on his knee as considered the issue. “However, I believe we can mine a few more yards from the west wall. Last winter, winds forced the ice ashore in that area, which relieved the ice pressure. Given the shallow nature of that shoreline, the ice will climb ashore again. I believe the wall is safe to mine.”

“So be it,” the General’s reply came over Robert’s protest. “We should mine near the entrance as well. We can use timber to shore up the cave. Have the wood crews stack lumber on the quarry floor. Wood not used for tunnel work can be for fires.”

Looking from person to person, it was clear to Robert they decided this topic prior to his arrival on the island. It was as if they were all on the path of impending events, unable to stop the momentum hidden within the day.

“Yes, sir.” Robert’s failure of his men was troubling.

The meeting broke up after a few more minutes and finally, free of distraction, Robert walked to the shore of the lake. He stared at the water and tried not to think of home.

Why was every decision on this island centered on life and death? Perhaps this was the foul taste in Robert’s mouth. The idea of mining the west wall felt dangerous.

A rustle of rocks broke Robert’s thoughts; he turned to find Sergeant Burns maintaining a respectful distance.

“Yes?” Robert faced the Sargent.

“With the colonel’s compliments, sir,” the Sergeant held out a small bundle wrapped in a handkerchief.

Accepting the gift, Robert found several cigars from Beltram’s private stock. It was as close as the colonel could come to an apology.

“Sergeant,” Robert offered a cigar to Burns. The Irishman accepted the gift and placed it gingerly in his pocket. “Thank the colonel for me, please.”

“Of course, sir,” Burns came to attention, then hesitated.

“I don’t like the cave either, sir.” he turned smartly and walked away.

Softly whistling Dixie, Robert turned his back on the lake and set about his work.