“Ah!” exclaimed Heinze, triumphantly, “he has a permit from the Government.”
“Let me see it,” said the General.
I handed it to him, and he drew a camp-chair from the tent, and, seating himself, began to compare me with the passport.
“In this,” he said at last, “you state that you are a commercial traveller; that you are going to the capital on business, and that you are a friend of the Government.”
I was going to tell him that until it had been handed me by Aiken, I had known nothing of the passport, but I considered that in some way this might involve Aiken, and so I answered:
“It was necessary to tell them any story, sir, in order to get into the interior. I could not tell them that I was not a friend of the Government, nor that I was trying to join you.”
“Your stories are somewhat conflicting,” said the General. “You are led to our hiding-place by a man who is himself under suspicion, and the only credentials you can show are from the enemy. Why should I believe you are what you say you are? Why should I believe you are not a spy?”
I could not submit to having my word doubted, so I bowed stiffly and did not speak.
“Answer me,” the General commanded, “what proofs have I?”
“You have nothing but my word for it,” I said.