"As your father has been kind to my boy, wounded and a prisoner in the midst of enemies, I ought to do something for you, Christy," continued Colonel Passford, looking on the floor.
"Not at all, Uncle Homer; I am not wounded as Corny is, and there is no need of doing anything for me," interposed Christy, laughing in the serious face of the planter.
"I can get you paroled, and then I shall be glad to have you remain at Glenfield until you are exchanged," said the planter.
"I shall not accept a parole, Uncle Homer," replied Christy promptly.
"Not accept a parole!" exclaimed the colonel. "Corny did so."
"If I were wounded, as Corny is, I would accept it."
"I hope you don't mean to try to escape, Christy," added his uncle, with a look of deep concern on his dignified face, as he looked about the apartment in which his nephew was confined.
"I don't say that I shall; if I did say so, you would have our guard doubled, and ready to shoot me if they saw my head at a window," answered Christy with earnestness.
"You seem to think I am a heathen; but you forget that you are an active enemy of my country," added the planter, with a pained expression.
"I don't forget it, uncle; but I am not half as active as I hope to be before this thing ends. I believe you would see me shot or hung by the neck till I was dead if it were for the benefit of what you call your country."