Supper was over, the table cleared, and the men sat talking together. At this time broke in the twins, beating off the snow and pounding with their cold feet on the floor. “I have a sword,” and “I have a drum,” cried the twins. “Goodness, you little rebels! I shall run,” laughed Verney. “And I,” cried the Count. “You are late, boys,” said Mrs. Markham. “Aunt Mary kept us.” “Did you put away the lantern?” “No, mother,” said Bill. “Why not? I told you to be careful of it. What mischief have you been up to? I shall be easier when the holidays are over and the schoolmaster is busy with his ferrule.” The twins looked at each other and were silent. “Come,” said Verney, “out with it, boys.” “You’re the oldest, Harry,” said Bill. “Out with it, Gemini,” said Verney. Harry was silent, and it was Bill who replied. “Well, Sambo--that’s Aunt Mary’s man, sir--he wouldn’t let us carry the lantern.” Verney, the sympathetic lover of all their mischief, asked, “What then, Bill?” “We kicked his shins and he dropped the lantern and it went out, and a soldier came along and he said we had no lantern and he must take Sambo to the Guardhouse.” Verney, much amused, said: “You young rebels are always in mischief. The orders of Mr. Galloway are that every one after dark must carry a lantern.” “Well, we wanted to carry it.” “What did Sambo say?” “He ran away when the soldier said he had no light. Then we ran, too, like everything.” “And was that all?” The twins hesitated. “Oh, don’t be afraid,” cried Verney. “What next?” “We hurrahed for Washington and snowballed him.” “What, Washington?” “No, sir, the soldier; and he ran after us and we ran down Willings Alley and got over the wall and then over our own wall, and that soldier-man he is asking questions of Mr. Willing’s cook.” Tom grinned approval, the Count looked serious, and Verney laughed while the Colonel said, “I have a mind to spank both of you.” Mrs. Markham turned on him. “I can attend to those ceremonies myself, sir”--a fact of which the twins were well aware. The Colonel made no reply, but Verney said: “In the interest of patriotism, madam, you cannot possibly court-martial them.” “And it is Christmas Eve, mother,” said Tom. “Well, it is largely your fault, Mr. Verney. You spoil them too much.” “I shall reform, madam. We shall reform, Gemini.” “To bed with you, lads,” she said. “Couldn’t we sit up a little?” said Verney. “Please, madam,” urged the Count. “Then half an hour. Come to the fire. Lie down on the rug, boys. Why, your hands are half frozen.” The Count and Verney drew to the hearth and the Colonel sat at the table. He was quite outside of the group around the fire.