"So the minions of tyranny have dragged you back to the den!" rang out a bold, virile voice, from the inner darkness, and presently a stalwart, erect figure strode forth, stepping easily over the legs of the reclining prisoners and planting each foot firmly as it fell. The speaker was evidently able, from recent habit, to see fairly well in the darkness. Coming close to Dick, he suddenly stopped and exclaimed, "By the everlasting, 'tis another man! Brother, I took you first for a comrade who broke the tyrant's chain yesterday. They removed him from this cage, to doctor him, for the filthy air had made him sick; but he broke away and plunged into the river, in the snow-storm. Or else the guard who brought our supper is a liar. Have you heard anything of his fate?" "No, sir," said Dick, wondering what personage was this whose style of speech was so oratorical, and whose spirit remained so high in this miserable hole. "I am a newcomer here. I am Richard Wetheral, of Hendricks's company of riflemen, from the county of Cumberland, province of Pennsylvania." "I welcome you to my acquaintance," replied the other, heartily, thrusting forth his manacled hands and grasping Dick's. "I am Colonel Ethan Allen." "What! The captor of Ticonderoga?" cried Dick, remembering how in the camp at Cambridge the news of that bold feat of a May morning had been celebrated, and how the name of the Green Mountain leader had become an every-day word in the colonial army. "Fortune threw that prize in my way," said the other, with a modesty so unmistakably pretended that the affectation could only amuse, not offend. "Fortune was not so kind at Montreal, as you may have heard," he added, dismally. "I had heard of your--your bad luck at Montreal," said Dick, leaning against the oaken wall of the enclosure, "but I little expected the honor of meeting you in these circumstances." "Yet in these circumstances we have been--in this very den, indeed--since ever the army appeared yonder at Point Levi." "And where were you before that?" asked Dick, eager to hear the story of so famous a hero from the hero's own lips. "Why," said the colonel, "we were in more places than one, you may be sure. After our--bad luck, which was all because I was outrageously out-numbered and not concerted with, I surrendered, on the promise of honorable terms, and we were led into the town to be interviewed by their commandant, General Prescott, God--bless him! When he asked me whether I was that Colonel Allen who took Ticonderoga, and I told him I was the very man, he went into a rage and shook his cane over my head and called me a rebel and several worse names; and when he ordered us put in irons and sent on board the _Gaspee_ schooner, he swore I should wear a halter at Tyburn. From the _Gaspee_ I wrote him a letter, telling him of the notorious friendship and generosity with which I had treated the officers I took at Ticonderoga, but he paid no attention to my letter."