“Peace!” interrupted the president. “The usages of war are stern enough in themselves; you need not aid them to your own condemnation.”
“The prisoner can retract that declaration, if he please,” remarked another judge. “His confession, if taken, goes fully to prove the charge.”
“I retract nothing that is true,” said Henry proudly.
The two nameless judges heard him in silent composure, yet there was no exultation mingled with their gravity. The president now appeared, however, to take new interest in the scene.
“Your sentiment is noble, sir,” he said. “I only regret that a youthful soldier should so far be misled by loyalty as to lend himself to the purposes of deceit.”
“Deceit!” echoed Wharton. “I thought it prudent to guard against capture from my enemies.”
“A soldier, Captain Wharton, should never meet his enemy but openly, and with arms in his hands. I have served two kings of England, as I now serve my native land; but never did I approach a foe, unless under the light of the sun, and with honest notice that an enemy was nigh.”
“You are at liberty to explain what your motives were in entering the ground held by our army in disguise,” said the other judge, with a slight movement of the muscles of his mouth.
“I am the son of this aged man before you,” continued Henry. “It was to visit him that I encountered the danger. Besides, the country below is seldom held by your troops, and its very name implies a right to either party to move at pleasure over its territory.”
“Its name, as a neutral ground, is unauthorized by law; it is an appellation that originates with the condition of the country. But wherever an army goes, it carries its rights along, and the first is the ability to protect itself.”