Only the expression of his face told the extreme contempt he felt for his companion, and how it did wound to the quick one of his nature to be held a prisoner by such as William Baker. But there was no help for it; he must submit to be taken to Washington by the despised Bill, and then,—oh, how his heart sank within him as he thought, what then? Was there no method of escape? Couldn’t he get away, or better yet, couldn’t he hire Bill to let him go? Strange he had not thought of this before. Yankees were proverbially avaricious, and almost every man had his price. He could try, at all events, and unbending his dignity, he inquired what Bill would ask to let him go? “What’ll I ask?” repeated Bill, placing both feet instead of one upon his prisoner. “I dun know. Le’ss dicker a spell and see. What’ll you give, and where do you keep your traps?” “In my pockets,” the unsuspecting soldier answered; “there’s my watch and chain, worth over three hundred dollars.” “Whew-ew!” whistled Bill, his face lighting up instantly, while hope crept into the stranger’s heart. “A gold watch worth over three hundred! Let’s see the critter.” “You forget that my hands are tied,” the stranger suggested. “So they be, but mine ain’t,” and the next moment Bill was holding to his ear an elegant Parisian watch, and asking if the stranger were positive sure it cost more’n three hundred dollars. “I had an old pewter thing that I gin to mother,” he said, “and this concern jest comes in play. It’s mine, you say, if I’ll let you cut stick and run?” “Yes, sir; I give you that in exchange for my liberty.” “Wall, now, kind a generous, ain’t you? But I want you should fling in something to clinch the bargain. A chap of your cloth is of more valley than three hundred. What else have you got, corporal?” and laying the watch carefully upon the grass, Bill’s hand a second time sought the stranger’s pocket, bringing out an expensive and exquisitely wrought quizzing-glass. “Wall, now, if these ain’t the curisest spetacles!” he exclaimed. “I’ll jest see how a Reb looks through ’em,” and adjusting them to his eyes, Bill walked demurely around his prisoner, and then standing at a little distance inspected him minutely, as if he had been some curious monster. “Hanged if I can see in ’em, but mabby they’ll suit the old woman to hum,” he said, placing the glass beside the watch, and adding: “Watch and spetacles ain’t enough, corporal. What more have you got? Ain’t there a ring on one of your hands?” “Yes, a costly diamond,” was the faint response, and Bill ere long was trying in vain to push it over his large joints. “It don’t fit me, but I guess ’twill my gal, when I git one,” he said, laying that, too, with the watch and eyeglass.