The captain saluted, military fashion, and replied:

"We took two prisoners, sir. They were encamped in a tent in the woods.

One of them says he is an American citizen, and says he knows you, so I brought them in."

"I wish you had brought in the tent, too," said the general with a wan smile. "It would be an improvement on sleeping in the open air. Are these the prisoners? I don't know either of them."

"The captain makes a mistake in saying that I claimed a personal acquaintance with you, general. What I said was that you would recognize, somewhat quicker than he did, who I was, and the desirability of treating me with reasonable decency. Just show the general that telegram you took from my coat pocket, captain."

The paper was produced, and O'Neill read it over once or twice.

"You are on the New York _Argus_, then?"

"Very much so, general."

"I hope you have not been roughly used?"

"Oh, no; merely tied up in a hard knot, and threatened with shooting--that's all."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Still, you must make some allowance at a time like this. If you will come with me, I will write you a pa.s.s which will prevent any similar mistake happening in the future." The general led the way to a smoldering camp fire, where, out of a valise, he took writing materials and, using the valise as a desk, began to write. After he had written "Headquarters of the Grand Army of the Irish Republic"

he looked up, and asked Yates his Christian name. Being answered, he inquired the name of his friend.

"I want nothing from you," interposed Renmark. "Don't put my name on the paper."

"Oh, that's all right," said Yates. "Never mind him, general. He's a learned man who doesn't know when to talk and when not to. As you march up to our tent, general, you will see an empty jug, which will explain everything. Renmark's drunk, not to put too fine a point upon it; and he imagines himself a British subject."

The Fenian general looked up at the professor.

"Are you a Canadian?" he asked.

"Certainly I am."

"Well, in that case, if I let you leave camp, you must give me your word that, should you fall in with the enemy, you will give no information to them of our position, numbers, or of anything else you may have seen while with us."

"I shall not give my word. On the contrary, if I should fall in with the Canadian troops, I will tell them where you are, that you are from eight hundred to one thousand strong, and the worst looking set of vagabonds I have ever seen out of jail."

General O'Neill frowned, and looked from one to the other.

"Do you realize that you confess to being a spy, and that it becomes my duty to have you taken out and shot?"

"In real war, yes. But this is mere idiotic fooling. All of you that don't escape will be either in jail or shot before twenty-four hours."

"Well, by the G.o.ds, it won't help _you_ any. I'll have you shot inside of ten minutes, instead of twenty-four hours."

"Hold on, general, hold on!" cried Yates, as the angry man rose and confronted the two. "I admit that he richly deserves shooting, if you were the fool killer, which you are not. But it won't do, I will be responsible for him. Just finish that pa.s.s for me, and I will take care of the professor. Shoot me if you like, but don't touch him. He hasn't any sense, as you can see; but I am not to blame for that, nor are you.

If you take to shooting everybody who is an a.s.s, general, you won't have any ammunition left with which to conquer Canada."

The general smiled in spite of himself, and resumed the writing of the pa.s.s. "There," he said, handing the paper to Yates. "You see, we always like to oblige the press. I will risk your belligerent friend, and I hope you will exercise more control over him, if you meet the Canadians, than you were able to exert here. Don't you think, on the whole, you had better stay with us? We are going to march in a couple of hours, when the men have had a little rest." He added in a lower voice, so that the professor could not hear: "You didn't see anything of the Canadians, I suppose?"

"Not a sign. No, I don't think I'll stay. There will be five of our fellows here some time to-day, I expect, and that will be more than enough. I'm really here on a vacation. Been ordered rest and quiet. I'm beginning to think I have made a mistake in location."

Yates bade good-by to the commander, and walked with his friend out of the camp. They threaded their way among sleeping men and groups of stacked guns. On the top of one of the bayonets was hung a tall silk hat, which looked most incongruous in such a place.

"I think," said Yates, "that we will make for the Ridge Road, which must lie somewhere in this direction. It will be easier walking than through the woods; and, besides, I want to stop at one of the farmhouses and get some breakfast. I'm as hungry as a bear after tramping so long."

"Very well," answered the professor shortly.

The two stumbled along until they reached the edge of the wood; then, crossing some open fields, they came presently upon the road, near the spot where the fist fight had taken place between Yates and Bartlett.

The comrades, now with greater comfort, walked silently along the road toward the west, with the reddening east behind them. The whole scene was strangely quiet and peaceful, and the recollection of the weird camp they had left in the woods seemed merely a bad dream. The morning air was sweet, and the birds were beginning to sing. Yates had intended to give the professor a piece of his mind regarding the lack of tact and common sense displayed by Renmark in the camp, but, somehow, the scarcely awakened day did not lend itself to controversy, and the serene stillness soothed his spirit. He began to whistle softly that popular war song, "Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching," and then broke in with the question:

"Say, Renny, did you notice that plug hat on the bayonet?"

"Yes," answered the professor; "and I saw five others scattered around the camp."

"Jingo! you were observant. I can imagine nothing quite so ridiculous as a man going to war in a tall silk hat."

The professor made no reply, and Yates changed his whistling to "Rally round the flag."

"I presume," he said at length, "there is little use in attempting to improve the morning hour by trying to show you, Renmark, what a fool you made of yourself in the camp? Your natural diplomacy seemed to be slightly off the center."

"I do not hold diplomatic relations with thieves and vagabonds."

"They may be vagabonds; but so am I, for that matter. They may also be well-meaning, mistaken men; but I do not think they are thieves."

"While you were talking with the so-called general, one party came in with several horses that had been stolen from the neighboring farmers, and another party started out to get some more."

"Oh, that isn't stealing, Renmark; that's requisitioning. You mustn't use such reckless language. I imagine the second party has been successful; for here are three of them all mounted."

The three hors.e.m.e.n referred to stopped their steeds at the sight of the two men coming round the bend of the road, and awaited their approach.

Like so many of the others, they wore no uniform, but two of them held revolvers in their hands ready for action. The one who had no visible revolver moved his horse up the middle of the road toward the pedestrians, the other two taking positions on each side of the wagon way.

"Who are you? Where do you come from, and where are you going?" cried the foremost horseman, as the two walkers came within talking distance.

"It's all right, commodore," said Yates jauntily, "and the top of the morning to you. We are hungry pedestrians. We have just come from the camp, and we are going to get something to eat."

"I must have a more satisfactory answer than that."

"Well, here you have it, then," answered Yates, pulling out his folded pa.s.s, and handing it up to the horseman. The man read it carefully. "You find that all right, I expect?"

"Right enough to cause your immediate arrest."

"But the general said we were not to be molested further. That is in his own handwriting."

"I presume it is, and all the worse for you. His handwriting does not run quite as far as the queen's writ in this country yet. I arrest you in the name of the queen. Cover these men with your revolvers, and shoot them down if they make any resistance." So saying, the rider slipped from his horse, whipped out of his pocket a pair of handcuffs joined by a short, stout steel chain, and, leaving his horse standing, grasped Renmark's wrist.

"I'm a Canadian," said the professor, wrenching his wrist away. "You mustn't put handcuffs on me."

"You are in very bad company, then. I am a constable of this county; if you are what you say, you will not resist arrest."

"I will go with you, but you mustn't handcuff me."