Several men, now coming forward, recognised Raoul, and stated, moreover, that he had been missing for some days.
“He must, therefore,” said they, “have been with the Yankees.”
We were soon handcuffed and marched off to the guard-prison. There we were closely searched, but nothing further was found, except my purse containing several gold eagles—an American coin that of itself would have been sufficient evidence to condemn me.
We were now heavily chained to each other, after which the guard left us to our thoughts. They could not have left us in much less agreeable companionship.
Chapter Twenty Nine.
Help from Heaven.
“I would not care a claco for my own life,” said Raoul, as the gate closed upon us, “but that you, Captain—hélas! hélas!” and the Frenchman groaned and sank upon the stone bench, dragging me down also.
I could offer no consolation. I knew that we should be tried as spies; and, if convicted—a result almost certain—we had not twenty hours to live. The thought that I had brought this brave fellow to such a fate enhanced the misery of my situation. To die thus ingloriously was bitter indeed. Three days ago I could have spent my life recklessly; but now, how changed were my feelings! I had found something worth living to enjoy; and to think I should never again—“Oh! I have become a coward!” I cursed my rashness bitterly.