’"Hallo!” says the sentry at the gate.

’"You’ll say something more than Hallo! when you see what we’ve got inside here,” promised the corporal.

’Then they bundled my grandfather out in the light of day, and the corporal proudly told the sentry to summon the agent at once.

’"Good Lord!” said the sentry, “if it bain’t Farmer Mugford!”

’Just then, as it happened, forth stepped the agent himself from the wicket, starting for his walk that he took for his health’s sake every afternoon.  Captain Sharpland his name was, and later on, when the Americans mutinied, he was accused of treating them harshly, but my grandfather said that a kinder-hearted man never stepped.

’"Hallo,” says Captain Sharpland, halting and putting up his eyeglass.  “Why, Mugford, whatever is the meaning of this?”

’"You’d best ask the Jew here, sir,” my grandfather answered, nursing his sulks.

’"If you pleathe, noble captain,” put in the Jew, who didn’t yet guess anything amiss, “we’ve thecured the ethcaped prithoner—­after a tuthle—­”

’"And pray, who the devil may you be?” asked Captain Sharpland, screwing his eyeglass into his eye.  He disliked Jews, upon principle.

’"Tho pleathe you, noble captain, my name ’th Nathan Nathaniel, of Thouththide Thtreet, Plymouth:  and on my way thith morning, ath you thee, I came on the prithoner—­“’

’"Prisoner be—­” began Captain Sharpland, but broke off to swear at the sentry, that was covering his face with his hands to hide his grins.  “My good Mr Mugford, will you explain?”

’"With pleasure, sir,” my grandfather answered, and told his story, while the Jew’s eyes grew wider and wider, and his jaw dropped lower and lower.

’"You claim compensation, of course?” said Captain Sharpland at the close, and as gravely as he could, though he too had to smooth a hand over his upper lip.

’"Why, as for that, sir”—­my grandfather was taken aback—­“I took it for a joke, and bear no grudge against Government for it.”

’"It wouldn’t help you if you did,” said Captain Sharpland.  “But I suggest that Mr Nathan, here, owes you a trifle—­shall we put it at twenty pounds?”

’But here Mr Nathan cast up his hands with a scream, and would have sat down in the roadway.  The soldiers caught him, and held him upright, and you may guess if, in their temper at being fooled, they twisted his arms a bit.

’"Take him to my quarters, and we will discuss it,” commanded Captain Sharpland, turning back to the wicket again, and leading the way.  Well, the Jew, when he reached the agent’s quarters, rolled on to his knees, and whined so long, beating down the price, that ’twas well after four o’clock before he counted out the five guineas which was the least sum Captain Sharpland would hear of.  My grandfather counted them into his pocket, scarcely believing his good fortune.  He stayed behind