“Now, boys,” whispered the major, “our safety depends upon our nerve.  It is so dark they can’t see our faces, so don’t be frightened at any thing that may happen.  Captain, take care of that prisoner, and remember and blow his brains out the moment he makes the least attempt at escape.”

“Who goes there?” shouted the voice again.

“Scouts!” answered the major, promptly.

“Advance, one scout, and give the counter sign.”

The Major accordingly advanced to the place where the sentry was standing, and the captain cautiously cocking his musket, placed its cold muzzle against the prisoner’s head, whispering, between his clenched teeth: 

“I guess you hear what the major did said, ain’t it?  Well, then, don’t say somethings.”

The laconic captain probably thought this warning sufficient, for he brought his musket to an “order arms,” and did not afterward even deign to cast a single glance at the prisoner.

In the mean time, the major was endeavoring to convince the lieutenant of the guard that, although they did not have the countersign, they were in reality Confederate soldiers.

“It may be that you’uns is all right,” said the lieutenant, after reading, by the aid of a dark lantern, the papers which Frank had captured.  “But, you see, thar’s so many of these yere Yanks running away, that we’uns has got to be mighty careful how we let folks go past.”

“I tell you,” said the major, speaking as though he considered himself highly insulted, “I tell you, that I am on special service by order of General Taylor.  I have been out on a scout to recapture the very prisoners you have just mentioned.  I have already caught one of them,” he added, pointing to their prisoner, who, let it be remembered, was dressed in Frank’s uniform.

“If you’uns is out on a scout,” said a soldier, who had been aroused from his blanket, and pressed up to obtain a glance at the major, “whar’s your hosses?”

“I left them about a mile down the river.  I have already been through your lines once to-night, and I might have gone through this time without your knowledge, if I had seen fit to do so.”

“Maybe it’s all right,” said the lieutenant, shaking his head dubiously; “but I’ll be dog-gone if I don’t think I’ve seen your face somewhere before;” and as he said this he raised the lantern, and allowed the light to shine full upon him.  Frank, who had been waiting impatiently for the interview to be brought to a close, gave himself up for lost when he saw a smile of triumph light up the rebel’s face.  But the major was equal to the emergency.  Meeting the lieutenant’s gaze without flinching, he replied, carelessly: 

“Very likely you have.  I have been in the service ever since the war broke out.  But do you intend to allow us to proceed, or shall I be obliged to report you at head-quarters?  Remember, I can say that you do not keep a very good watch, seeing I have already passed you once.”