“Nobody wants to hang you, or do you any other harm,” I said. “In your present lively and healthful condition you afford us too much amusement. We do not see how either army could spare you. Put your hat on and come on.”
He followed very obediently and said nothing. He knew I held the whip hand over him.
“Sergeant,” I said to Whitestone, “you need not watch any longer, since the tent is empty.”
Then I took Albert away without another word. I had it in mind to punish Whitestone, who was presuming a little on his age and experience and his services to me.
I really could not help laughing to myself as I went along. This would make the third time I had entered Burgoyne’s camp as an escort—once with Chudleigh, once with Albert’s sister and mother, and now with Albert. I was fast getting to be at home in either camp. I began to feel a bit of regret at the prospect of Burgoyne’s speedy surrender, which would break up all these pleasant little excursions.
Albert showed surprise when he saw us leaving our camp and going toward Burgoyne’s.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“Nothing, except to take you back where you belong,” I said. “We don’t care to be bothered with you.”
“You hold me rather cheaply,” he said.
“Very,” I replied.