The young fellow who accompanied my brother commenced to do the talking, expressing in his kindliest way, but in a drawling nasal tone, peculiar to a Down-east man who affects the moral-reform style, that has had the effect of setting me on edge ever since against this class of men, his "sincere regret at my unfortunate condition." His tone and manner not only put me on nettles, but his first proposition was, "Now, my dear boy, the best thing you can do, for your brother and yourself, is to freely confess to——."
That's all he said; he didn't get any further, because I snapped him up abruptly, saying, "Confess nothing; I'll do nothing of the kind, because there isn't anything to confess."
"But, my dear boy, why did you refuse to take the oath of allegiance? Surely if you——."
"Oh you go to ——. I'm not going to make any further explanations to you."
Then, turning to my brother, I quietly told him that Mr. Covode would explain matters; that I would not, if I stayed there forever, ask any favors from the War Office. My brother said that this man had been sent down as a witness to my denial, and it was only necessary for me to say in his presence that I would take the oath.
But, I could not honorably do that. I could not swear falsely to get out of prison, that "I had never borne arms nor belonged to an armed organization against the United States." And I would not perjure myself, even with the orders of Secretary Stanton, with a long imprisonment threatening me for disobedience.
And I did not. To make the long story short, I went back to prison. Colonel Woods, who had been called into the room and heard with surprise of my refusal to be released on such a "technicality," merely laughed as he escorted me back to quarters, fully satisfied in his own mind, no doubt, that I was a "case."
The Englishman and Belle Boyd had, of course, heard one side of his story of my "bribery," and, in consequence, became, if possible, more interested than ever in the development of my interesting case.
Realizing from this interview that I was simply at Mr. Stanton's mercy, and that he was most probably influenced by the War Department suckers whom I have mentioned, and who were envious or jealous of my independent and important telegraph or secret communications, I made up my mind that it was going to be a long siege in O. C. P. for me. The more I thought about it, and as each day's scanty news brought us fresh and exciting intelligence of the military doings in front of our army, I concluded impulsively that I wouldn't stay very long; that I must be on hand and once more outside. I would vindicate myself independently of Mr. Stanton's advisers.
Our mess was served by a caterer from the outside, as I have already explained. The meals were brought in three times a day, on a tray, by a colored boy, or a contraband. I had noticed from my room window that this colored boy came from that direction, and had, in consequence, learned to look out for his appearance as regularly as we got hungry, at each meal time, so that it became a daily question in our mess: "Is dinner in sight yet?"