"Having heard of the horrors of your Southern prisons, I think I do."
"It is my duty to hand you over to the officers at the prisoners' camp, a mile or so from here."
"I suppose you will do your duty."
"To make a prisoner of such a young and promising fellow as yourself seems a great pity."
"I am willing to take what comes, as the fortunes of war," replied Deck, who did not propose to be led into showing the white feather, especially in front of such a coldly polished rascal as Captain Brentford appeared to be.
"Are you willing to be sent to prison, to languish there until the close of this struggle?"
"I am willing to submit to that which I cannot alter."
"Ah, that is more like it." Captain Brentford looked around, to see that nobody was in sight. "Major Lyon, I am tired, let us sit under yonder tree for a few minutes and rest."
"I don't care much to rest in these wet clothes. I may take cold."
"You are no wetter than myself. I think it may pay you to take the rest I propose."