"I don't understand all your fine lingo, your honor. When I swam to the _Monarch_ and climbed on deck and brought away the flag, you said I was a hero, for you wanted to know the size of the guns and all about the _Monarch_; now, when I climb a wall to look at our own guns--for they are American guns, aren't they?--then I'm to die, for that's wrong." It was hard to make Bob see the difference between murder and lawful killing. As the poet Young wrote a hundred and fifty years before, Bob philosophized: "One to destroy is murder by the law; And gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe. To murder thousands, takes a specious name War's glorious art, and gives immortal fame." No wonder that the poor illiterate powder-monkey was unable to see the difference in the degree of guilt. "I will see what can be done, Bob, but I am afraid you are in a bad fix." "See Dolly--I ask pardon, Mrs. Madison--and she will see to me." "What can we do?" asked Tempest. "I don't see my way clear. If I were on the deck of my own vessel I could adjudicate, but the laws on land are so confoundedly strange," answered Vernon. "But no murder was intended----" "No, but what right had Bob in the place at all?" "A boyish trick." "Granted, but he had no right to use force. What does he mean by referring to Mrs. Madison?" Tempest told him of the scene at the banquet, and though the captain of the _Lively Bee_ was feeling far from cheerful, he was compelled to laugh at the comical adventures of the powder-monkey at the White House. "We must find out whether the man is alive or dead," said Vernon, as the story of Bob's danger was again thought of. "How?" "We must go to the navy yard." "Will not the morning do?" "No. Why delay? I am sure Mistress Tempest will excuse you." "I was not thinking of myself," answered Tempest; "but shall we not appear overanxious?" "Zounds, man! I'd drag the President from his bed if I could save Bob." And Tempest could well believe his captain capable of doing so. The two visited the navy yard, and the officer on duty received them courteously. He, however, declined to answer the question respecting the man who had been struck by Bob. "You see, it really makes no difference whether he is alive or dead." "It does, though." "To the man and his family, yes, but to 'Bob' as you call him, no." "How do you reason that out?" asked Tempest. The man was evidently fond of talking, and crossed his legs with an assumption of comfort as he spoke. "We are at war, you admit that?" "Certainly." "Then, by the military code, for any one to enter an arsenal or navy yard without permission is to incur the fate of a spy. You know what that is?" "Death." "Just so; then Bob, climbing the wall and examining our guns, is a spy, and therefore must die." "But he is a good American, though an ignorant one." "You think so?" "I am sure of it."