The gray in the east soon grew, and the world slid into the daylight. I looked at my comrades, and they were all haggard, their features drawn and great black streaks showing under their eyes. I shoved my gold into my pockets and said that we must go. "And all the rest of us, too," said Moore. "Heavens! suppose that Sir William should have some active duty for us to-day! What would he think that we had been doing?" His query was certainly pertinent, and the little gathering hastily dissolved, Marcel bidding his new-found cousin an affectionate good-night or rather good-morning. As Marcel and I were about to pass out of the room, Waters appeared before us with a hot glass of mixed spirits in either hand. "Better drink these before you go," he said. "They will freshen you." The presence of this man with his evil eyes and significant glance coming upon us like an apparition was startling and decidedly unpleasant. I disliked him almost as much as I did Belfort, and in my soul I feared him more. I saw that self-same look of smirking satisfaction on his face, and I trembled not only with anger, but because I feared that the man possessed our secret and was playing with us for his own malicious sport. However we accepted his invitation and drank. "When do you fight Lieutenant Belfort?" he asked, looking me straight in the eye as I handed back to him the empty glass. "Is it any business of yours?" I said, flushing with anger. "No, but I wondered why you and Lieutenant Belfort were so eager to quarrel," he replied, his eyes showing no fear of me. "What damned impertinence is this!" broke out Marcel. "How dare you, a servant, speak in such a manner?" "I beg your pardon, sir, I spoke hastily, I meant no harm," said the man, suddenly becoming humble, as if frightened by Marcel's heat. "Then see that hereafter your actions conform better with your intentions," continued Marcel, as we passed out. "That man is more to be feared than Belfort," I said a little later, speaking the thought that was in my mind. "Yes, I think so, too," replied Marcel. "Confound him! Those eyes of his look me through, and I have the fancy that he is all the time laughing at us." But Marcel's ill humor and suspicion lasted less than half a hour, and he was cheerfully humming a love song when he finally jumped into bed. CHAPTER EIGHT--_A File of Prisoners_ We rose at noon the next day, and after the fashion of those times strolled toward the centre of the city to meet our friends and hear whatever news might chance to be going. Twenty-four hours earlier I would have escaped from Philadelphia if possible, but now I felt that my engagement with Belfort held me there. It was singular how circumstances combined to prevent our flight. "_Our_ flight," I said, and yet I did not know that Marcel would go with me even if I fled. "_My_ flight," I should say, and that, too, was impossible until I met Belfort. Then? Suppose I should slay him!