“Corporal, a light here,” cried Archie; and the man doubled up to throw the rays of the lantern upon the prisoner’s face as he now rose to his feet.
“The Count!” cried Archie.
“Yes, sir. Your stupid sentry, he make a John Bull blunder—a mistake.”
“A mistake?” said the Captain. “Why, how come you here?”
“Only I have my lanterrne and collecting-box, and come down the river to catch specimens of the beautiful moth for the naturalists at home in France. I land from my boat, and the boat come to take me away; but your sentry man re-fuse to let me go.”
“Collecting—lantern!” said the Captain.
“Yes, sir. Look. I fear my beautiful specimens are spoiled in the pannier here. He use me very bad.”
“You mean that you were collecting moths?” said Archie dubiously, as he recalled the rustling sounds he had heard below the veranda that night.
“Yes, sir,” said Smithers gruffly. “I suppose it’s right, what he says, about collecting. Here’s one of his tools;” and he handed the beautifully finished little revolver to the young officer.
“Humph!” grunted the Captain.—“Well, sir, I’m sorry if our sentry behaved roughly to you, but he was only obeying orders, and you ought to know that you had no business here.”