"Why, then, I shall have to discredit you, as I threatened, and my own situation will be more serious than before, for I shall brand myself as a coward, as well, and you would not like your lover to have that stigma on him." "You will not let me save you, then?" "No," answered the man, sighing deeply, "and life is so different to me now. I didn't care an hour ago what happened, but now--" There was a tap on the door. "What is it?" he called out impatiently. "It's me, Lieutenant Sempland--Sergeant Slattery," answered the sergeant of the guard, a whilom friend to the prisoner. "On me own account, sor, I come to tell ye that they'll be afther comin' for ye in a few minutes, an' ye'd better git ready fer 'em. If ye have anythin'--any preparations to make, ye'd better be quick about it, sor." "Thank you," answered Sempland. "You hear, dearest? You must go. I must have a moment to myself to enable me to face this court-martial. Leave me now, I beg of you. Go home. After it is over I shall ask permission of the general to have you visit me." "I cannot go," said Fanny Glen, archly. "Why not?" "I am a prisoner." "A prisoner! What for?" "For treachery, disobedience of orders, oh, everything!" she answered glibly. "What do you mean?" "General Beauregard sent me here this morning. The court-martial is for me, not you. They're going to set you free and I am to be tried and shot, it may be." "Nonsense! How did he find out?" "I told him myself. I didn't disobey you, you see. You had not forbidden me to do it then." "What did you tell him?" "That Admiral Vernon was my father, and that I kept you--I--I--loved you." "Great heavens! And--" "And then he called the adjutant-general and they whispered together a moment, and then he sent me here." "Why did you do it?" cried the man, reproachfully. "They will punish you in some way. I would rather have died than have you tell. What shall we do now?" CHAPTER XV THE GENERAL'S LITTLE COMEDY There was a hurried movement on the part of the sentry in the corridor, followed by the trampling of many feet. Sabres clanked, voices broke the stillness. Fanny Glen was really frightened now. They were coming. They were there. What were they about to do to her? Of course, they would not shoot her,--she was reasonably sure of that,--but in any event she was certain to be parted from her lover. She drew nearer to him as the door was opened. On the threshold stood General Beauregard himself, his visage charged with an unusual degree of solemnity. Back of him were grouped the members of his staff and others who had been on the wharf the night before. They were all in full uniform and made a most impressive sight. It was a highly dramatic moment, full of menace to the woman. As for Sempland, he scarcely comprehended it. "The court-martial!" whispered Fanny Glen, fearfully, instinctively shrinking closer to Sempland as she spoke.