“’Pon honour.  They arrived a six hours ago, and have been waiting to see the general.”

“You may be bound they are old and plain,” prophesied Brereton, “or Gibbs would be squiring them, ’stead of wasting time on us.”

“There you ’re cast,” rejoined the major, “I caught but a glimpse, yet ’t was enough to prove to me that all astronomers lie.”

“How so?”

“In saying that but twice in a century is there a transit of Venus.”

“Then why bide you here, man?”

“That’s the disgustful rub.  They were with a man under suspicion, and orders were that none should hold converse with him before the general examined into it.  A plague on’t!”

Discussion of Venus was here broken by the announcement of supper, and the make-shift meal was still unfinished when the general’s body-servant appeared with the tea.  Taking it, Brereton marched boldly to the council door, and, giving a knock, he went in without awaiting a reply.

The group of anxious-faced men about the table looked up, and Washington, with a frown, demanded, “For what do you interrupt us, sir?”

The young officer put the tea down on the map lying in front of the general.  “Billy didn’t dare take this to your Excellency, so I made bold to e’en bring it myself.”

“This is no time for tea, Colonel Brereton.”

“’T is no time for the army to lose their general,” replied the aide.  “I pray you drink it, sir, for our sake if you won’t for your own.”

A kindly look supplanted the sternness of the previous moment on the general’s face.  “I thank you for your thoughtfulness, Brereton,” he said, raising the cup and pouring some of the steaming drink into the saucer.  Then as the officer started to go, he added, “Hold!” Picking up a small bundle of papers which lay on the table, he continued:  “Harrison tells me that there is a prisoner under guard for my examination.  I shall scarce be able to attend to it this evening, and to-morrow is like to be a busy day.  Take charge of the matter, and report to me the moment the council breaks up.  Here are the papers.”

Standing in the dim light of the hallway, the aide opened the papers and read them hastily.  Either the strain on the eyes, or some emotion, put a frown on his face, and it was still there as he walked to the door before which stood a sentry, and passed into a badly lighted room.

“Powerful proud ter meet yer Excellency,” was his greeting from a man in civilian shorts and a military coat, who held out his hand.  “Captain Bagby desired his compliments ter yer, an’ ter say that legislative dooties pervented his attindin’ ter the matter hisself.”

Paying no heed to either outstretched hand or words, the officer looked first at a man standing beside the fireplace and then at the two women, who had risen as he entered.  He waited a moment, glancing from one to the other, as if expecting each of them to speak; but when they did not, he asked gruffly of the guard, though still with his eyes on the prisoners:  “And for what were the ladies brought?”