My inclination to kick him took on a sudden and violent increase. It was with the most extreme difficulty that I retained command over my mutinous foot. “Perhaps it is as you assert,” I said musingly. “In fact there would seem to be no doubt that it is best for us to let Burgoyne go, and retreat with what rapidity we can.” “Of course! of course!” said Albert eagerly. “That is the only thing you can do.” Now a desire to laugh instead of a desire to kick overspread me; but I mastered it as I had the other. “I wish to tell you, however,” I said, assuming my politest manner, “and in telling you I speak for the other American generals, that however little we are pleased with the news you bear, we are much pleased with the bearer. We have found you to be a young gentleman of courtesy, breeding, and discernment.” “Thank you,” said Albert in a tone of much gratification. “And,” I resumed, “we have arrived at a certain conclusion; I may add also that we have arrived at that conclusion quickly and unanimously.” “What is it?” asked Albert with eager interest. “That we have met many graceful and accomplished liars in our time, but of them all you are the most graceful and accomplished,” I said with grave politeness, my tongue lingering over the long words. Albert uttered something which sounded painfully and amazingly like an oath, and sprang to his feet, his face flushing red with anger or shame, I am uncertain which. He raised his hand as if he would strike me, but I moved around a little, and the light in its turn fell on my face. He uttered another cry, and this time there was no doubt about its being an oath. He looked at me, his face growing redder and redder. “Dick,” he said in a tone of deep reproach, “I call this devilish unkind.” “The unkindness is all on your side, Albert,” I retorted. “You have given me more trouble in this campaign than all the rest of Burgoyne’s army--if that fellow Chudleigh be counted out--and here I have you on my hands again.” “Who asked you to come into my tent?” said Albert angrily. “I heard you outside a while ago, but I did not think you would come in.” “That was when your feet bobbed up,” I said. “You must retain more control over them, Albert. Now that I think of it, and trace things to their remote causes, that movement first stirred in me the curiosity to see your face, and not your feet only. Have them amputated, Albert.” “What do you mean to do?” he asked with an air of resignation. “Mean to do!” I said in a tone of surprise. “Why, I mean to retreat with all the remainder of our army as quickly as we can in order to get out of the way of those fourteen thousand invincible British veterans who will soon be united in one force.” “Now stop that, Dick,” said Albert entreatingly. “Don’t be too hard on a fellow.” “All right,” I replied; “go to sleep again.” Without further ado I left the tent, and found Whitestone waiting outside in some anxiety.