prisoner; and Fred started from his reverie.
"Am I the first you ever had the luck to take that you stare in that
way? Don't choke me."

Fred's tanned cheeks grew crimson, and his brow was knit as he turned
away his face to look after his men, who in the meantime had taken the
whole of the little party, dismounted those who needed it, bound their
arms behind; their back, and collected the horses.

"Look ye here, sir," cried Samson, dragging forward the man in the
morion, who came behind limping, "I've got him at last. This is my
wretch of a brother, who has taken up arms against me."

"Against you--you ill-looking dog!" cried Scarlett, fiercely. "How dare
you! Crop-eared rebel!"

"That will do, sir," said Fred, sternly; for, after being a little
overawed by the gallant aspect of his prisoner, he was recovering
himself, and recollecting his position. "Will you give your promise not
to escape, or must I have you bound?"

"Promise to a set of knaves like you?" cried the youth, fiercely. "No.
Do what you will; only, mind this--our time will come."

"Yes; and when it does," cried Nat, shaking his head to get rid of the
iron cap which was over his eyes, for his hands were bound, "we'll show
them what it is to be rebels, eh, Master Scarlett--captain, I mean?"

"Silence, sir!" cried Fred, angrily; and, after giving the men orders,
the little party returned with their prisoners in their midst, Scarlett
behind, gazing haughtily before him, and paying no heed to a few words
addressed to him at first by his captor, who reined back at the slight,
and followed afterwards at the rear of his little troop, angry and
indignant at Scarlett's contemptuous manner, and at the same time sorry
and glad, the latter feeling perhaps predominating, for he had
successfully carried out his father's commands.

"I wish it had been some one else," he was thinking, as the little party
rode on, the prisoners mounted on their horses, but looking in sorry
plight with their hands bound behind. "What will my father say when he
sees who it is?"

At that moment the sound of angry voices and a hoarse laugh from the
troopers made Fred urge his horse forward.

"What is this?" he said. "I will not have the prisoners insulted."

"It's the prisoners insulting us, Master Fred--I mean captain. It's
this ne'er-do-well of a brother o' mine bragging and bouncing because
his hair's grown a bit longer than mine. He keeps calling me crop-ears,
sir, a