Andrew started back and stared half in pity, half curiosity. The troopers had tied their prize's hands at his back, and he limped, as if in the contest he had hurt his foot. There were stains of blood and soil on his rough garments, and a ragged bandage was tied across his forehead. A thick shock of black hair effectually disguised his sunburnt and unshaven face from close recognition. A more wretched figure it would have been hard to draw. He gave a piercing look at the group in the hall as he passed, as if seeking compassion; but there was too much else to engross the attention of the Master and Andrew for them now to proffer it. Even the women shrunk back as he was forced along. Gilbert directed Angus to show two of the four guards to a small outer room adjoining the rear passage, where Captain Jermain suggested that supper be served them speedily, and thus their charge remain directly under their eyes and ears. "Sit down, Captain," Gilbert said, as Andrew once more closed the door. "We shall have some refreshment at your service in a few moments. We finished our own evening meal just before you arrived. Be seated, gentlemen." "I must again regret that we disturbed your family-prayers, Mr. Boyd," apologized the young soldier, dropping into a seat: "I have too much respect for your kindness and for religion, soldier that I am, to willingly disarrange you. Ah, this is a fine old house! It is like a bit of home for a Southerner to slip into such a spot for a night." "You have not been long in the army?" Gilbert inquired. "Oh, dear, no," returned the young captain, stretching out his long legs luxuriously--"only a couple of months, and all of those loitering about the Fort. I haven't gained much military experience, I dare swear, by all this famous Rebellion! Have I, Mr. Dawkin? Have I, Roxley?" Two of the other men laughed; and confirmed Boyd in his idea that this was a very simple-hearted young soldier, a good theorist likely, but not much experienced in anything except fox-hunting, or slaying soft hearts at Lowland balls. Very boyish and frank did he look, sitting there, in spite of his dignity and manliness; and also very much like a boy was his evident enjoyment in finding himself so comfortably situated. In spite of his apprehensions, Gilbert could not help fancying this Achilles the pride of some Surrey household, the darling of some mother whose breeding of him all the rough life of a barracks had not effaced. How much worse the peril would have been if such a guest, forcing himself on the household, were a rude, wary old officer full of strange oaths, exactions and suspicions of everybody and everything about him! "Praise be to God!" Gilbert exclaimed, in his soul, "for we may tide over the danger yet!"