“Yes,” replied Robert; “my only child. The organization here sought me because of my knowledge of mechanics which rendered me useful in connection with these air-ships. I would never have consented to come, though, if it had meant separation from my girl, so they agreed to her coming with me. She’s a great favorite here. They call her ‘The Daughter of the Regiment.’ But, while I am talking away to you, I expect you are pretty hungry.” “I confess to experiencing a sense of vacuum,” said the Professor. “I’m as hungry as a bear,” said Mortimer. “Then your wants in that respect shall be quickly supplied,” replied Robert cheerily. “In the meantime you’ll forgive me, I know, if I secure this door on the outside and put a man on guard. That’s the usual military process, I believe, Captain?” “Very well,” answered Mortimer, with a laugh. “I promise you not to escape during the next hour--not until after breakfast.” “And your sword,” said Robert, glancing at the scabbard which hung by Mortimer’s side. “I suppose, according to strict military rule, I ought to demand that you give it up.” Mortimer’s face darkened. “I served through the Russian war,” he said, “and was never taken prisoner. To yield up my sword would be a new experience to me. I’ll yield it to none here, and those who would have it must take it by force.” “Well,” answered Robert in a conciliatory tone, “we needn’t quarrel over that. We hold you securely enough here as it is and can afford to leave you your sword.” With these words, he stepped from the cabin, secured the door on the outside and the two prisoners were alone. Instinctively they turned and faced each other. “A pretty mess we’ve made of it!” exclaimed Mortimer, with a laugh. “We started out to capture those fellows and here they’ve turned the tables and captured us. A nice little ambuscade we’ve walked, or rather flown, into. The worst of it, too, is that I thought it was only a night’s work and I didn’t even get leave of absence from the Guard--all of which is quite an infraction of military discipline.” “And I,” bewailed the Professor, “what a mess I’ve made of it! Never once in the excitement of the chase did I think of using the aërestograph to communicate with our friend Kearns. You see, I was kept pretty busy handling the air-ship and keeping watch on the movements of the fellows in front of us. Still, I suppose I ought to have managed to send him a message or two.” “Not at all,” replied Mortimer; “you were not to blame. Up to the moment of our capture what news was there to send? We were every moment awaiting developments.” “And when those developments occurred,” remarked the Professor dryly, “it was no longer in our power to send messages.” “Quite so,” assented Mortimer, “but all that happened was so utterly unlooked for that we could hardly have been expected to foresee it. Those who are disposed to criticise may be reminded of the old axiom that foresight is never equal to hindsight.”