“Don’t give yourself any uneasiness on that score,” Captain Fitz said, he having heard my last remark; “I will take care that he is treated with as much consideration as the circumstances will admit of, and see that he wants for nothing.”

I uttered a few hurried thanks, and the captain was about to pass, when I detained him.

“Is there any means by which we can obtain an interview with my friend?” I asked.

“I fear not,” he answered, in a hesitating manner, which inspired me with some hope.

“Only a few words,” I pleaded.

“If the colonel or commissioner should know that I ever listened to the suggestion, there would be a pretty row,” muttered the captain, still hesitating.

“But they need not know it,” I repeated.

“Come, Captain Fitz, for old acquaintance sake, let us see the young man.  No harm will come of it, and you will be doing a good service,” said Mr. Brown, who knew the officer while quartered at Melbourne.

“Well, I will see what I can do for you; but remember, I shall give you only five minutes.”

“That will answer our purpose,” I replied.

“Then wait here a few moments, until I report myself ready for the march.  The prisoners are being mustered, and preparing for the long tramp, for we have got to get them out of Ballarat before daylight, for fear of an attack and rescue.”

He spoke hurriedly, and then entered the commissioner’s room, where he remained ten minutes, when he again joined us.

“All right,” he whispered; “put on these overcoats and caps—­you must pass for officers, or there will be an end to all attempts at an interview.”

We were too glad to comply with the request to waste words, and as soon as we had donned the disguise we followed the captain out of the front door, passed double lines of soldiers, still on duty, but resting on their arms, and at length reached a strong building where the prisoners were confined, and where preparations were being made for their removal.

A dozen or twenty soldiers guarded the door; but at the sight of the captain and his uniform, arms were presented, the door was unlocked, and we passed into a room thirty feet square, where we found about twenty-five of the most prominent miners, lounging about, talking, and apparently entirely indifferent to their fate.  We cast our eyes over the crowd, and soon saw Fred, holding a conversation with a soldier, whom he was endeavoring to bribe to get writing materials, so that he could indite a few lines to us before he left.

“Step this way, my man,” I said, disguising my voice, and addressing my friend.

He looked somewhat astonished, but as he could not see my face, he did not know me.

“Well, gentlemen, what is your pleasure?” he asked, as he followed us to the most remote part of the room.

“To see you before you left, and to convince you that we will make every exertion to secure your release,” I whispered.