“That’s your affair, not mine,” he replied. “I have nothing to do but to remain captured.”
I thought I saw in him an inclination to be disagreeable, which, to say the truth, was scarce the part of a gentleman after the handsome fashion in which I had treated him. In the face of such ingratitude, I resolved to use the privileges of my superior position.
“Are you about dry?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Then get up and march.”
He seemed to resent my stern tone, but inasmuch as he had provoked it he had no cause for complaint. If he intended to assert all the rights of a prisoner, then I equally would assert all the rights of a captor.
“Which way?” he asked.
“Northward, along the river bank. Keep in front of me,” I said.
Obedient to my orders he stalked off at a pretty gait, and I followed. We marched thus for half a mile. Chudleigh glanced back at me once or twice. I seemed not to notice it, though I could guess what was passing in his mind.
“If I hadn’t given my word,” he said, “I think I’d fight it out with you, fist and skull.”