There was a tear in his eye as he thought of his fond mother; and he wept for her when he could not weep for himself. No one saw that tear, and the officer permitted him to indulge his sad revery in silence. But, after they had walked two or three squares, his companion in authority suddenly stopped.

"I have left a book, which I carried in my hand, at the depot," said he, in tones full of chagrin at his carelessness. "I must have it; for I can do nothing without it."

"Where did you leave it?" asked the soldier.

"In the guard-room. You may go back, and bring it to me. Give me your gun; you needn't carry that."

"Where shall I find you?"

"Here, where you leave me. Go quick, my man."

"I won't be gone ten minutes," replied the soldier, as he started off at a run for the missing volume.

The officer took the gun, and stood by the side of his prisoner, at the corner of the street, till the soldier disappeared in the darkness.

Somers, still thinking of the sad fate which he was confident was in store for him, wished to confirm his impressions in regard to his destiny. His companion seemed to be a gentleman of a kindly nature, though stern in the discharge of his duty. It was possible that he would give him some information in regard to the probable disposal of him.

"Will you tell me, sir, why I am separated from the rest of the prisoners?" said he, as soon as the sentinel had departed upon his errand.

"Because you are an officer."

"How do you know I am?" asked Somers, very desirous of ascertaining how much Captain de Banyan had told in regard to him.

"We know all about you," answered the officer, m.u.f.fling his cloak more closely around his face, as if afraid the night air might injure his lungs as he opened his mouth.

"What do you know about me?"

"All about you."

"That isn't very definite."

"In a word, you are Captain Thomas Somers, of the --th regiment."

"Who told you that?"

"That's of no consequence."

"What is to be done with me?"

"I don't know."

"I suppose I am only a prisoner of war?"

"You crossed the James River in disguise, and went into our lines for the purpose of obtaining information. I suppose you can put those two things together."

Somers's worst fears were confirmed. He was to be tried as a spy, and De Banyan had told all he knew about him. Before he had time to dwell on the dark prospect any longer, the officer said he was cold, and could not stand there any longer. Taking his prisoner by the arm, he led him down the cross-street. Somers was just thinking of an attempt to bid his companion good-night, when the latter spoke again:

"I shall catch my death from this night air," said he. "Just before the battle of Magenta----"

"Captain de Banyan!" exclaimed Somers.

CHAPTER XXVII

A FRIEND INDEED

"Hush, my dear boy! not a word!" said Captain de Banyan in an impressive whisper, as he led the way along the street.

Somers made no reply; for he readily perceived that the utmost caution was necessary, though he did not understand the position of his friend, or what complications there were in the situation. He was filled with rejoicing at finding himself again in the way of getting back to the Union army. Of course, his feelings towards Captain de Banyan, in spite of his antecedents in the Third Tennessee, underwent a sudden and agreeable change; and in the joy of his heart he was disposed to embrace his friend, and beg forgiveness for the suspicions he had entertained of him.

They had advanced but a short distance from the main street, when they heard the clatter of horses' hoofs.

"That's bad," said Captain de Banyan, as he stopped to ascertain in what direction the hors.e.m.e.n were going.

"What's bad?" demanded Somers.

"My absence has been discovered, I am afraid. The provost-marshal has a section of cavalry to run down Union prisoners who may escape. I think they are after me; at any rate, we must be very careful where we go."

A few moments later, a small party of hors.e.m.e.n dashed down the street by which the captain was conducting his retreat. It would prove fatal to their hopes, if they were seen; and Captain de Banyan entered the yard of a house, followed by his companion. There was a stable on the premises; and, without a special invitation from the owner, they entered, making their way to the hay-loft, which seemed to be the most promising place of concealment. A horse in the stall below whinnied when they reached the second floor, expecting, no doubt, his morning rations of hay.

Unfortunately for the fugitives, still more unfortunately perhaps for the horse, there was very little hay in the loft; so that a secure hiding-place was not readily found. But, as it was no part of the captain's intention to remain long in this loft, they seated themselves on a grain chest, to wait till the troopers should pa.s.s the house.

"What time is it, captain?" asked Somers.

"About four in the morning. We are rather late. It will be daylight in about an hour."

"Where have you been since we parted?"

"Since we parted, my boy? We didn't part. You did all the parting, Somers," replied De Banyan in a reproachful tone.

"I know I did; but, after what I had heard, you need scarcely wonder. You acknowledged that you had been a rebel officer, and a member of the Third Tennessee regiment."

"I grant it; but I thought enough else was said to enable you to understand my position."

"Well, I had some hopes that you were all right; but I could not banish my fears. How could I know that you had not been sent over on the other side for the same purpose that we crossed the James?"

"You might have known it, my dear fellow. They don't usually send men over on such business whose loyalty is doubtful. You heard the captain say that I had been suspected."

"I did; but I could not fully understand your position."

"And so you gave me the slip? Well, Somers, I forgive you."

"I am sure, if I had not been in doubt in regard to what you were, I would not have left you, even if I had been certain of hanging with you."

"I know you wouldn't, my boy. I confess there were a great many dark things against me; but I a.s.sure you I am a loyal and true man. I have suffered more for the Union than you have; for I was born in the sunny South, and all my friends and neighbors went with the rebels. I had no alternative but to go into the army, where my experience in the Crimea, in Italy, and in Mexico, made me an officer. I escaped as soon as I could, and enrolled myself on the right side."