"Pray, where were you when human wisdom was distributed?"
"I think I should know Coles if I saw him."
"He is the greatest villain that ever went unhung."
"Except yourself. Somers, this is child's play. You have made me your enemy, but let us fight it out like men."
"I will do so with pleasure when you take your place on the deck of a rebel vessel, where you belong."
"A truce to child's play, I say again. We must settle this matter here and now."
"It must be done, or I will inform Captain Cascabel who and what you are before the first watch is out. Probably he will wish to see your Confederate commission and your letter of instructions."
"When he does, I have something else to show him," replied Somers, whose answer was sufficiently indefinite to make the traitor look very stormy and anxious.
"Can you show him a Confederate oath of allegiance signed by me?"
"Then he will be more likely to hear me than you," added the lieutenant, whose countenance now looked as malignant as that of a demon. "You have subscribed to that oath; I have not."
"Here," continued Pillgrim, taking from his pocket the document which had been offered to Somers by Wynkoop.
The young officer glanced at it, and on the line for the signature, he saw, with horror and indignation, the name of "John Somers," apparently in his own handwriting. Undoubtedly it was a forgery, but it was so well done that even the owner of the name could hardly distinguish it from his usual signature.
"It is a forgery," gasped Somers, appalled at the deadly peril which seemed to be in his path.
"Prove it," said the lieutenant, with a mocking smile.
Somers groaned in spirit. It would be impossible for him to prove that the signature was a forgery. Even his best friends would acknowledge it, so well was it executed.
"I have you, Somers," said Pillgrim, exultingly. "Let us understand each other. You are mine, Somers, or you hang! Somers, I am Coles!"
Lieutenant Pillgrim rattled off the sentences in which he acknowledged his complicity with treason with a smile of malignant triumph on his face. He gloated over his victim as the evil one might be supposed to do over a soul wrenched from truth and virtue. He believed that he had Somers in a position where he could not betray him, or even resent his tyranny.