prisoner. Had he escaped? Or was he retaken? Unhappily these questions were not unanswered long. Repairing straightway to the library, I discovered the rebel in the custody of Corporal Flickers and two men. He was seated at a table in the Captain's chair with all the nonchalance so peculiar to him, teasing his captors, and sipping cherry brandy in gentle quantities to reanimate his blood. There seemed a touch of the sublime in the calm manner in which he bowed to fate.
"Perhaps her ladyship can tell us," says the Corporal, regarding my appearance with great eagerness. "What's happened to the Capting, ma'am? Is it right that this ere slip o' hell's a-corpsed 'im."
"My dear man," says I, with the most flattering suavity, and a pretty considerable cunning also, "if you will just step into the home meadow, you will discover for yourself your commander's desperate disposition."
"Ha, ladyship!" the Corporal answered, with a grin, "I'm a rather oldish bird, you see. I've met your sort afore, my lady. You'll take care o' the prisoner, won't you, while we goes and has a look?"
"Certainly," says I, a thought sardonically perhaps, "I shall be only too happy to take care of him."
"Then you won't," says Mr. Corporal, with a leer, "and that's a moral. Don't you think so, William?"
William thought it was.
