"I must say," replied Sir William, "that I never before saw a man so anxious to give his side of the argument." "Yes," replied Wildfoot, "I have been at some trouble and risk to do so." I saw a faint gleam of humor appear in the eyes of Sir William, and I inferred that the quality of geniality or good fellowship in him, which perhaps made him such a poor soldier, was rising to the surface. He seemed to appreciate, to a slight degree at least, the humor of the situation. His eye suddenly sought mine, and then I distinctly saw a trace of amusement mingling with his perplexed and annoyed expression. "You seem to have made sure of the attention of Lieutenant Melville and Lieutenant Graves," he said. "I have no doubt that they can maintain their interest," replied Wildfoot, "and their present position is only temporary." "You say that you came to show me the strength and resources of the colonists. Will you tell me how this is so?" asked Sir William. "That I am here is the proof of it." "It is true that you are here, but I have an idea, Captain Wildfoot, that you will not go away again." "Why not?" "I am hospitable. We need you. Philadelphia needs you." "I know it, and so I shall come back again." "No, we wish you to stay with us now." I should have laughed at this point had not the gag been in my mouth, not at the conversation of Sir William and Wildfoot, but at the funny look on the face of Graves. He had a great sense of dignity and aristocratic importance, and it was hurt by the sudden intrusion of Wildfoot. I said: "Never mind, Graves, it will soon be over," but the words stopped short against that gag, and he did not hear them. I did not even hear them myself. Vivian, on the contrary, was bearing himself like a gentleman. He sat perfectly still, with his eyes either on Sir William or Wildfoot, and so far as I could see, his face was without expression. The three men who accompanied Wildfoot remained standing, but motionless, each with a cocked pistol in his hand. One stood with his face turned towards me, but every feature was hidden by a thick, bushy, black beard. "So I take it, that you have done this thing merely in a spirit of bravado," said Sir William, "and I wish you to understand, Captain Wildfoot, that I thoroughly appreciate your daring. I could wish that you were one of us; in the king's service you would be a colonel at least, and not a mere rebel captain; moreover, your neck would be in no danger." "But I would be colonel in a losing cause," replied Wildfoot, "and to tell the truth, Sir William, I enjoy my captaincy among the rebels, as you call them, much more than any man enjoys his colonelcy among the king's men. No, Sir William, I am happy where I am; then why seek unhappiness elsewhere?" "Are you quite sure that you are happy where you are?" "Quite sure."