The major, greatly relieved to find that the general still considered him a rebel, was about to promise that George should be well taken care of, when the latter, to the astonishment of all, boldly declared:
"That is not Lieutenant Somers. These gentlemen are all my friends—Union to the backbone."
"Eh! what?" ejaculated the general, in surprise, scarcely believing what he heard. "These men all Yankees?"
"Yes, sir; every one of them."
"A nice-looking set, surely—a fine lot of jailbirds you are."
"So I have been feeding a lot of tyrants instead of loyal Confederate soldiers," said Mrs. Le Dell, while the sisters gazed at the young hero with contempt pictured in their faces.
"No, mother, you have not fed tyrants," answered George, with a good deal of spirit, "but true Union men. It is nothing you need be ashamed of."
"Well, we are ashamed of it," said the general, who seemed to be fairly beside himself with rage. "Didn't I tell you never to darken my door again? Where are you traveling to, and what do you intend to do?"
"I am on my way North, and I purpose to join my vessel, if she is still afloat."
"You'll do no such thing. Just consider yourselves prisoners—all of you."