first time.

"I can believe," he said, "that my son might overpower the sentry. He
is, as you see, a young man of considerable personal strength, but
I should be surprised to learn that he dressed the prisoner in the
captain's uniform. I may be misjudging my son, but I have hitherto
regarded him as somewhat deficient in humour. You must admit, General
Clavering, that only a man with a feeling for the ridiculous would have
thought of----"

"It will be better for you to hear what the sentry has to say, my lord,
and I beg of you to regard the matter seriously. I assure you it will
not bear joking on. The rescue of a prisoner is a grave offence. Captain
Twinely, kindly order your man to tell his story."

"Since I am not a prisoner at the bar," said Lord Dunseveric, "I shall,
with your permission, sit down. As to the seriousness of the business
in hand, I confess that for the moment the thought of the worthy Twinely
waking this morning not only with a splitting headache but without
a pair of breeches on him keeps the humorous side of the situation
prominent in my mind."

The sentry told his story. To Maurice's great relief, he omitted all
mention of the girl who had supplied the lamp which so conveniently
burnt low, but he had recognised Maurice and was prepared to swear to
his identity.

"No doubt," said General Clavering, "you will wish to cross-question
this man, my lord."

Lord Dunseveric yawned.

"I think that quite unnecessary," he said, "a much simpler way of
arriving at the truth of the story will be to ask my son whether
he rescued the prisoner or not. Maurice, did you bind and gag this
excellent trooper?"

"Yes."

"Did you subsequently release Neal Ward from the cellar?"

"Yes."

"Now, Maurice, be careful about your answer to my next question. Did you
take the clothes off Captain Twinely?"

"Yes."

"And was that part of the scheme entirely your own? Did the idea
originate with you or with the prisoner whom you helped to escape?"

"It was my idea."

"I apologise to you, Maurice. I did you an injustice. You have a certain
sense of humour. It is not perhaps of the most refined kind, still you
have, no doubt, provided a joke which will appeal to the officers' mess
in Belfast, Dublin, and elsewhere; which will be told after dinner in
most houses in the county for many a year to come. And now, General
Clavering, I presume there is no more to be said. I wish you good
morning."

"Stop a minute," sai