rustling loudly.

"Yes, after a splendid supper," replied the Doctor, in French.

"Oui!" cried Phil, joyously, and then his heart seemed to stand still,
for from just in front, where all looked dark, there was the rattle of
muskets and a voice shouted in plain English:

"Halt! Who goes there?"

CHAPTER SIX.

"Stop! For pity's sake," cried the Doctor. "Don't fire!"

There was a rush and they were surrounded. Phil was seized roughly by
two soldiers, while two more dragged the Doctor to his knees.

"I've got a monster, sergeant," cried one of the men. "Hold still, you
wriggling little worm."

"Let me go," cried Phil, angrily.

"Now then, who are you?" cried a harsh voice out of the darkness.
"Spies from the French camp, sergeant; that's certain," said another
voice.

"Silence in the ranks!" roared the sergeant. "Now then, sir, what are
you?"

"Travellers going south to escape from the war," said the Doctor,
huskily.

"Won't do," said the sergeant. "Bad attempt at English. Why, you were
speaking in French just now."

"Yes; I am a French teacher--the tutor to my little pupil here, the son
of an English officer."

"Bah!" cried the sergeant. "What a lame tale. You talked French or
some other lingo, and I heard the boy say `Oui!'"

"Yes, sir; we talk in French sometimes so that the boy may learn."

"Oh, indeed! Well, you're prisoners now, and he shall be taught to
speak English. Bring them along."

"Pardon, sir. You belong to the English force?"

"I rather think we do, mounseer. Search them, my lads. No, wait till
we get them to headquarters. What papers have you?"

"Papers, sir?"

"Yes, despatches. Letters."

"Only my pocket-book," said the Doctor.

"Got it, sergeant," said one of the men.

"Nothing else?"

"No, sergeant; not that I can find."

"Perhaps they're hidden upon the boy. Like enough."

Phil soon found that it was vain to resist, and he had to suffer being
roughly searched.

"Eh? What's that?" said the sergeant.

"Says he wants to be taken to his father."

"Yes, I want to go to my father, to tell him Dr Martin has been taken
prisoner by English soldiers."

"Then you can't go," growled the sergeant. "Here, who is your father,
young shaver?"

"Captain Carleton, of the 200th Regiment, sir," said Phil, stoutly.

"The 200th Regiment, eh? I don't know any Captain Carleton. But bring
them along."

The prisoners were marched off at once through the darkn