"Thank you, captain. You are the same affectionate fellow you used to be when you were a lieutenant in the Third Tennessee," replied De Banyan with a sneer; for it was evident that he was not at all pleased with the result of the affair. Four soldiers were detailed from the company to conduct the prisoners to a certain camp near the railroad at City Point, and there deliver them over to the keeping of an officer whose name was mentioned. "Good-morning, captain," said De Banyan with forced gayety. "Good-morning, Marvel, and success to you." "Thank you." "By the way, Barney, if there is anything I can do for you, don't fail to call upon me; that is, anything consistent with the duty of a faithful officer." "Such a remark was entirely uncalled for," said De Banyan with dignity. "Do you think I would ask an officer to sacrifice his conscience?" "Excuse me, Barney. I meant no offense," added the rebel captain, touched by the proud and dignified manner of his former friend. "Your words and your conduct are in keeping with each other." "Really, Barney, I meant nothing by the remark." "Then it was the more unmanly to make it." "I am still your friend. In proof of it, permit me to do you a favor," pleaded the rebel, much concerned at the wound he had inflicted on the sensitive nature of his late associate in the Third Tennessee. "I ask no favors," answered De Banyan proudly. "You are too hard upon me. Upon my word, I meant no offense. As a proof of my friendship, I will take your parole of honor not to escape, and you shall report at Richmond at your own pleasure. If you have any interest in this young man, I will allow him the same favor." "After what has happened, I cannot accept a favor at your hands. I can't see how an officer who doubts my word should be willing to take my parole." "As you please, Marvel," added the captain petulantly. "I can do no more for you." Somers was greatly relieved when the rebel officer rode off, followed by his company. He had trembled with anxiety, when the parole was offered to De Banyan, lest he should accept it, and thus compel him to do the same. Although he could not see how it was to be brought about, he intended to escape from the hands of his captors at the first convenient opportunity, with or without De Banyan, as the case should demand. One of the four troopers detailed to guard the prisoners was a sergeant, who intimated to them that they might take up the line of march for the camp where they were bound. To preclude the possibility of an escape, he ordered two of his men to ride ahead of the captives, while himself and the other followed in the rear. The little procession moved off; and there was never a sadder-hearted young man than Somers, who, were his true character discovered, was liable to the pains and penalties of being a spy. "Sergeant, have you been to breakfast?" demanded De Banyan, after they had walked a couple of miles, and were passing a farm-house. "No, sir."