Laguerre’s eyes glowed like two branding-irons. As he fixed them on Aiken’s face one expected to see them leave a mark.
“If the General will only listen,” Aiken stammered. “If you will only give me a hearing, sir. Why should I come to your camp if I had sold you out? Why didn’t I get away on the first steamer, and stay away—as Quay did?”
The General gave an exclamation of disgust, and shrugged his shoulders. He sank back slowly against one of the Gatling guns.
“What does it matter?” he said, bitterly. “Why lock the stable door now? I will give you a hearing,” he said, turning to Aiken, “but it would be better for you if I listened to you later. Bring him to me to-morrow morning after roll-call. And the other?” he asked. He pointed at me, but his eyes, which were heavy with disappointment, were staring moodily at the ground.
Heinze interposed himself quickly.
“Aiken brought him here!” he said. “I believe he’s an agent of the Isthmian people, or,” he urged, “why did he come here? He came to spy out your camp, General, and to report on our condition.”
“A spy!” said Laguerre, raising his head and regarding me sharply.
“Yes,” Heinze declared, with conviction. “A spy, General. A Government spy, and he has found out our hiding-place and counted our men.”
Aiken turned on him with a snarl.
“Oh, you ass!” he cried. “He came as a volunteer. He wanted to fight with you,—for the sacred cause of liberty!”