Here it should, perhaps, be explained that the confederate government, informed of the position of armed resistance assumed by the little band of patriots, had immediately telegraphed orders to recapture the insurgents. Among the Union-loving mountaineers of East Tennessee the mutterings of a threatened rebellion against the new despotism had long been heard, and it was deemed expedient to suppress at once this outbreak.
"Try the ringleaders by drum-head court-martial, and, if guilty, hang them on the spot," said a second despatch.
These instructions were purposely made public, in order to strike terror among the Unionists. They were discussed by the soldiers, and reached the ears of Carl.
"Hang them on the spot." That meant Stackridge and Penn, and he knew not how many more. "And I," said Carl, "have agreed to show the vay to the cave."
He was sweating fearfully over the dilemma in which he had placed himself, when a sergeant and two men came to conduct him to head-quarters.
"Now it begins," said Carl to himself, drawing a deep breath.
The irons remained on his wrists. In this plight he was brought into the presence of the red-faced colonel.
"I hate a damned Dutchman!" said Lysander, who happened to be at head-quarters.
He had had experience, and his prejudice was natural.
The colonel poised his cigar, and regarded Carl sternly. The boy's heart throbbed anxiously, and he was afraid that he looked pale. Nevertheless, he stood calmly erect on his sturdy young legs, and answered the officer's frown with an expression of placid and innocent wonder.