rst day of my
imprisonment while the cell above was preparing. I found there the
lieutenant commanding the guard, and two or three more officers, one of
whom, I understood, was a deputy of the Judge-Advocate. They read out a
paper, of which the following is an exact copy, and asked if I had any
objection to sign it:

DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA, COUNTY OF WASHINGTON.

_Old Capital Prison, Washington, D. C._

I, ----, of ----, in England, do solemnly swear on my Parole of
Honor, that I will leave the United States of America, with as
little delay us possible, and that I will not return there during
the existing rebellion.

So help me God.
Signed, ----.

Sworn to and subscribed before me,
this fifth day of June, A. D. 1863.
JOHN A. LOVELL,
Lieut. Comdg. Guard.

Now, had I been offered a free passage South, I doubt if I should have
accepted it, then; the aspect of things within the last two mouths had
changed for me entirely. I could not hope to carry out one of my
original plans; for all available resources were nearly exhausted, and
procuring fresh supplies from home would have involved infinite
difficulty and delay. Besides, a refusal gave at once to the Federal
authorities the pretext for detention that they had sought so eagerly,
and, so far, failed to find. I know no earthly consideration, excepting
clear obligations of duty or honor, that would have persuaded me to
incur ten more prison days. If, instead of being a free agent, I had
been bound by an oath to penetrate into Secessia at all hazards, I
should have held myself at that moment amply assoilzed of my vow. So,
with the remark--"that, of all the places on this earth, the Northern
States of America was the country I most wished to leave, and least
cared to revisit"--I signed the parole, and confirmed it with an oath.

Then, it appeared that my debt to the Union was paid, so that it had no
further lien on my effects or me. The saddle-bags were soon packed; in
another half-hour, I stood outside the prison-door--realizing, with a
dull, dazed feeling of strangeness and novelty, that there was not the
shadow of bolt, bar, or wall between me and the clear sultry skies.

CHAPTER XI.

HOMEWARD BOUND.

Now that this personal narrative is drawing rapidly to its close, there
is one point to which I must needs allude, at the risk of sinning
egotistically. While under lock and key, I never ventured