The next morning, however, he was told that he was to be taken before General Stoessel, who would judge his case. The tones of the officer making this announcement were much more bland than on the preceding evening, and the prisoner was given a good breakfast before taking up the march, blindfolded, across the city.
The walk itself seemed interminable. Down one hill and up another, along street after street, stumbling over rough pavements, with the roar of cannon constantly in his ears, and an unpleasant consciousness that a shell might fall in his immediate vicinity at any time, Fred was conducted into the great man's presence.
General Stoessel recognised him at once, and asked a good many questions, all of which Larkin answered promptly and fully, except those pertaining to the Japanese forces and defences.
"Look here, General," he said, "I've been called a spy more than once since I landed in your town. Now if I tell you all I know about the Japanese, you will have good reason to believe that I shall carry information to them, on leaving Port Arthur, concerning the Russians. This would fairly rank me as the mean thing I have been called—a spy. Not a word do you get from me, sir, regarding the Japs."
"But what if you never leave Port Arthur? Why shall I not order you hung at once?"
"Because, General Stoessel," said Fred Larkin, calmly, "I am an American citizen, innocent of any offence against your country; a journalist, pursuing his profession, and representing a friendly nation."
The bluff soldier gnawed his moustache. "You shall not stay here," he said with decision. "I do not want any newspaper men in Port Arthur."
"I'm ready to go," said Fred, "the moment you open the door. My arrival was unintentional, and——"
"Restore his papers, and send him to Chefoo," said the General, rising.
"How shall I go, General?" asked Fred.