These thoughts came quickly as he stood watching the leader of the party by whom he was surrounded—men who were ready at the slightest movement to spring upon him, and secure him, should he attempt to escape.
“I suppose,” said Hilary’s questioner, “you know what I am?” and he looked at the young officer sternly.
“Personally, no,” replied Hilary, boldly; “but your behaviour shows me that you are traitors to the king.”
“No, sir,” cried the other fiercely; “we are faithful followers of the king, and enemies of the German hound.”
“How dare you speak like that of His Majesty!” cried Hilary quite as fiercely; and he took a couple of steps forward, but only to find himself seized and dragged back.
“Hold the young rascal tightly,” said the officer.
“Yes, hold me tightly,” cried Hilary, “you cowards!”
“I am having you held tightly for your own sake,” said the officer, taking up and playing with a large pistol he had laid on the table before him. “I should be sorry to have to shoot so distinguished a follower of Hanoverian George.”
Hilary bit his lip and remained silent. It was of no use to speak, of less account to struggle, and he stood facing his captors without flinching.
“Now,” continued the leader, “as you have got rid of your little burst of passion, perhaps you will be reasonable. Listen to me, young man. Your position as second officer on board that despatch cutter will bring you frequently to both sides of the Channel, so that you will have ample opportunities for carrying messages for us without risk, and,”—he paused here, watching the young man intently—“greatly to your own profit. Do you hear?”