Artie was not one to sit down and kick his heels in dejection. To him, 'while there was life there was hope,' and having examined the sides and front of his prison, he turned his attention to the rear. A little work loosened one of the small boards previously mentioned. He was about to tear the board away, when he heard footsteps in the cellar; and he shoved the board back into place. It was Martha Bradner who had come down, accompanied by the negro Joe. Evidently the woman wanted nothing more than to render the young Unionist uncomfortable. "Hope you like the cell?" she began. "Thank you, Madam." "What is that strange smell? Have you been burning something?" "Nothing of any consequence," returned Artie. He had put out the pitch-pine torch and hid it behind him. "My brother is going to get square for the terrible manner in which your regiment treated him," went on the lady of the house, maliciously. "He is holding me for a hostage, is that it?" "You will find out fast enough, young man." "Is he going to make his demands at once?" "No. He has important work for General Bragg that must first be attended to," answered the lady, who had not yet learned the value of silence upon certain occasions. "Then he is a messenger for the general, eh? That is quite a high position to occupy." "No higher than Daniel deserves," was the airy reply. "My brother is a great soldier, were his real ability recognized." "No doubt he is a big man,--if General Bragg trusts him to do his scouting for him. It's hard work to play the part of a spy in a Union camp, I can tell you that." "Daniel is fully equal to the task," said the lady. She seemed totally ignorant of the fact that Artie was "drawing her out," and that she was letting her tongue run altogether too fast. Her brother had told her something of his mission, and she wanted this Northern mudsill to know what an important man that brother really was. "Perhaps your brother won't get back into the Confederate lines to tell all that he has learned," continued Artie. "He'll be back to-morrow morning. He has a first-class horse, and the Union password, and he--" "Martha! What are you doing down there?" came in the voice of Colonel Dick Bradner, as he appeared at the head of the cellar stairs. "I thought you promised Dan to leave the prisoner alone for the present." "I am not hurting him--nor is he hurting me," called back Mrs. Bradner. "I wouldn't talk too much to him--at least, not about our affairs or Dan's." "Colonel, I am able to manage for myself," was the icy response to this suggestion. "If it had not been for me we would not have captured this--this good-for-nothing Yankee." "Perhaps that is true, my dear. But be sure and tell him nothing about Dan."