een confined during the whole of my
captivity between two guns, on the lower-deck, I had had no means of
gaining any information whatever, either upon the points mentioned, or
indeed any others.

My statement was received with a look of incredulity and a dissatisfied
grunt.

"What think you, gentlemen," exclaimed the old martinet, "does this
young man's story strike you as being truthful?"

"It sounds plausible enough," replied the officer called Montrouge. "I
see no reason to doubt it."

"What is your opinion, Saint Croix?"

"I believe it to be the truth," replied the individual addressed.

"Good! We differ slightly in opinion, that is all, gentlemen," remarked
the general. "For my own part, I am convinced that this story,"--
striking disdainfully the written statement, which he held in his
hand--"is a simple tissue of falsehood. Luckily, we possess the means
of putting the matter to the test. Send for Guiseppe the Corsican."

Guiseppe the Corsican! the man who had sold me into the hands of the
enemy once already, and who, I had every reason to believe, had betrayed
Count Lorenzo di Paoli also. If this man and I were brought face to
face, I was hopelessly lost.

At that moment, and not until then, did I feel what a shameful and
despicable course of conduct I had entered upon. I had not only assumed
voluntarily the _role_ of a spy; but I had sought to shelter myself
beneath a cloak of falsehood; and now, out of my own mouth was I to be
judged--and surely condemned.

I felt thoroughly crestfallen and humiliated; not so much at my certain
detection as a spy, but at having placed myself in a position where
deliberate falsehood had become an absolute necessity to my safety,
which after all it had not only failed to assure, but had hopelessly
compromised.

A long and--to me--most painful pause ensued, neither of the officers
questioning me further. Had they done so, I feel certain I should have
thrown off the mask and avowed myself to be that hateful thing, a
disguised and secret enemy.

At length a tap came to the door; and Lieutenant Saint Croix, who had
gone out in search of Guiseppe, returned, bringing the man with him. A
single glance was sufficient to satisfy me that my former enemy once
more stood before me.

He approached the table, and, saluting the general, stood waiting, as it
seemed to me, with some trepidation, to learn why he had been summoned
to the dreaded presence of the chief.

"A