George gazed upon the scene long and earnestly, until his feelings overcame him, when he leaned his head upon his hand, and gave full vent to his sorrow.  He did not weep, but the heaving of his chest, and the quivering of his whole frame, showed how severe was the struggle that was going on within him.  His companions, who well knew what was passing in his mind, leaned on their weapons, and silently waited until the burst of grief had subsided.  At length, George recovered his composure, and said, slowly: 

“It looks natural, boys; every thing is just as I left it five years ago.  Let us go up to the house.  I must see my mother and sisters once more.  We will say that we are rebel soldiers, and want something to eat.  My father and brothers are at Fort De Russy with their commands, so there will be no danger.”

“But your uniform,” said Frank, anxiously, “that will certainly betray us.”

“No danger of that,” answered George; “a great many soldiers in the rebel army wear the Federal uniform.  There’s no danger.”

Frank was far from being satisfied, but he fell in with the rest, and followed George toward the house.  A few moments’ walk brought them to a barn, where they again halted, and, while George stood feasting his eyes on each familiar object, the captain bound the rebel lieutenant hand and foot, and laid him away under a fence-corner; and left him, with the information that his life depended upon his observing the strictest silence.  This course was the wisest that could have been adopted, under the circumstances; for it would have been very imprudent to have taken the prisoner with them, as he could easily have found means to make himself known.

George again took the lead, and, when they had almost reached the house, they heard the sound of a piano, and a female voice singing the never-failing “Bonnie Blue Flag.”

“There you have it,” said George, bitterly; “but don’t stop—­let’s go right in.  Major, you had better go up to the door, and ask them to give us something to eat.  I dare not trust myself to do it.  Be a bitter rebel now, and they will certainly invite us all in, and we will get whatever we ask for.  Now, boys,” he continued, turning to the others, “don’t watch me too closely when we get in the house, or you will betray me.”

The major—­after making sure that the papers, which had already been of so much service to them, were still in his pocket—­ascended the broad stone steps that led up to the portico, and knocked at the door.  It was opened by a servant, who, after inquiring what he wanted, led the way into a brilliantly-lighted parlor, where he saw before him George’s mother and sisters.

“Good evening, sir,” said Mrs. Le Dell, rising from her seat.  “Is there any way in which we can serve you?”

The major made known his wants, and a servant was at once dispatched to order supper, and to invite the remainder of the fugitives into the house.  As they filed slowly into the room—­George bringing up the rear—­the particular orders which the major gave about the muskets caused the lady to say: