He thrust his head out of the window, preparatory to climbing out, but instantly drew it in again with a low exclamation of intense disgust. ‘What is it?’ asked Lucius, who naturally could not see. ‘Thar’s a whole posse of soldiers jest ter the right at the edge er the woods,’ replied Ephraim. ‘They’re settin’ on the ground, so I reckon they mean ter stay. We’re trapped, Luce, and thet’s a fact. Ef it warn’t fer thet pesky sentry outside the door with his gun and all, we’d make a dash fer it, and never mind the gin’ruls. Ez it is, we’re done. No matter; we’ll jest hev ter brazen it out the best way we kin. They’ll take us fer two of their own men, and they can’t shoot us fer keepin’ ourselves from starvin’.’ ‘Why not get up there and hide? It’s as dark as night,’ suggested Lucius, who in looking round the hut had discovered the improvised loft mentioned above. ‘Git up whar?’ inquired Ephraim, who had not noticed it. ‘By time! The very place. Up with ye, Luce. They’re comin’ up. Hear their talk.’ Lucius replaced the jam upon the table, and making a leap from the ground, caught hold of one of the rafters and swung himself up on to the planking. Ephraim only waited to scatter a few crackers by the window and fling a couple more outside, and then he too sprang up and joined his comrade. ‘What did you do that for?’ asked Lucius. ‘Ye’ll see when they come in. Mum’s the word! Hyar they air.’ They retreated to the farthest extremity of the planking, against the gable of the hut, where they threw themselves down at full length; for, as Grizzly remarked, they might have to stay there for some time, and it would not do to run the risk of becoming cramped. Their faces were towards the open space where the table was set, and themselves completely hidden, not only by their position but by the surrounding gloom, they could see clearly all over the room, except immediately underneath them. Scarcely had they taken their positions when the door swung open, and with a loud clatter of voices and jingling of swords, three Federal officers entered the hut. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER VII. NO. XX. COMPANY D OF THE ‘TRAILING TERRORS.’ ‘Ha!’ exclaimed the foremost of the three officers, who wore the uniform of a general, ‘I don’t know about you, gentlemen, but I am quite ready for my breakfast.—Eh! What! Who? The dickens!—Here, sergeant! Orderly-sergeant Cox!’ ‘Sir!’ answered the orderly-sergeant, dashing into the hut at the loud, imperative summons. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ demanded General Shields, for it was he. ‘What is the meaning of it, sir?’ he thundered, as Sergeant Cox simply stared at him without attempting to reply. ‘Meaning, sir? Meaning of what, sir?’ stammered the bewildered orderly at last. ‘Of this,’ vociferated the general, pointing to the table. ‘Look at that ham! Look at those crackers! Observe the jam! Where is the milk?’