. All the outhouses and
lower rooms were converted into stables, little trouble having been
taken to remove rich Brussels carpets or valuable furniture. They were
led upstairs to a large room, where several officers were seated at
supper, and were announced as prisoners just captured on the road,
reporting themselves as naval officers.

"A likely story," observed the commanding officer--a general apparently
by his uniform. "What have you to say for yourselves?"

"That our tale is true," answered Devereux. "Any person on the coast
must have seen our ship burning. If you will send, you can ascertain
the truth of that part of our account."

"It is a considerable distance from the coast, and we cannot spare men
to send," said the general, gruffly.

"The boat by which we landed will be found at the bank of the river,"
observed Paul, quietly.

"Very likely, but that will only prove that you landed from some ship
off the coast," exclaimed the general, in an angry tone. "You were
found prowling about my head-quarters, the act of spies, and as spies
you will be treated. If your story is not authenticated, you will be
shot at sunrise."

"Say, rather, brutally murdered!" said Devereux, indignantly. "I call
all here to witness that I state that I am a British officer, that these
are my subordinates, that all I have said is true, and that we landed
here not knowing that the French were occupying the country."

The general, once well known for his atrocious cruelties, had made a
signal to the guard to lead away the prisoners, when a young man entered
the room dressed in the uniform of an hussar. Paul looked at him very
hard, struck by his strong likeness to Alphonse Montauban.

"What!" exclaimed the new comer, springing forward, and taking Paul's
hand, "Is it possible?"

His voice made Devereux and O'Grady turn their heads; and in spite of
the astonished and angry looks of the general and some of his officers,
he grasped their hands; then turning to the general, he cried out--

"What have these officers done? They appear to be treated as criminals.
I know them well. They are old friends, who, when I was their
prisoner, treated me with kindness, sympathy, and generosity. I will
answer for it that whatever account they have given of themselves is the
true one."

"That alters the case, my dear Count," said the general, in a blander
tone than he had as yet used. "If they really have been wrecked,
although we mu