"Are these all?" asked the English officer.
"Yes, general."
"Which is Ethan Allen?"
Allen was pointed out, and the gold-laced, red-coated officer raised his pince-nez and looked at Allen as he would at any curiosity.
"Which is Eben Pike?"
The young scout was pointed out by the officer in charge, and he had to undergo a similar inspection.
"And these are rebels? Well, well! England has nothing to fear if this is a sample of those fighting against her. So you are Ethan Allen? You are the man who broke into Ticonderoga? Well, well, well! You achieved fame, but whether it will avail you much when you stand on the gallows is for you to say."
The English officer had jerked out these sentences more to himself than to the prisoners.
He turned to the villainous old salt by his side.
"What do you think of your cargo?"