‘Well, I am, sir, and I declare this thing to be an impudent forgery. Pah! You call yourself a soldier, and allow yourself to be taken in by such a trick.’
‘It is not a forgery,’ cried Lucius. ‘Certainly, the general did not know that we were the escaped prisoners, but he gave my chum the paper, all the same. It’s the truth, upon my honour.’
Captain Peters looked puzzled, as well he might. ‘I don’t understand you,’ he began, when the colonel at a white heat broke in again.
‘Captain Peters,’ he roared, ‘do your duty.’
Captain Peters hesitated for the last time. He was very young, very sympathetic, and he did not know his position with regard to Colonel Spriggs. But he did know what would be the consequences to himself of disobedience on what was practically the field of battle. Finally he said: ‘Colonel, this appears to be a very curious and unusual case. Would it not be better, if I may say so, to refer it back to the provost-marshal?’
For an instant the colonel paused. It appeared that one chance more was to be given him. Then his good angel turned away and left him, and a black lie dropped from his lips. His voice became dangerously calm. ‘I do not know that I am bound to make explanations to you, Captain Peters,’ he said; ‘but I have done so out of consideration for your extreme youth and inexperience. It may be enough for you to know that I carry the provost-marshal’s order, countersigned by General Shields, and dated 1 A.M. to-day, to hang these fellows as soon as possible after their capture, should I succeed in taking them; and that document, sir, is not bogus like the one you have just read. Now, for the last time, will you obey orders?’
Captain Peters wheeled round and faced his men.
‘Company!’ he cried. ‘Attention! You will remain drawn up in line. Your orders are to keep a sharp lookout for the enemy. You will take no part in this business, if you are men. That is my last word to you as your captain.’ He turned about and faced the infuriated colonel. ‘No, sir; I will not obey your orders,’ he said with flaming cheeks. ‘Do your murderous work yourself, if you must do it. I am a soldier, not an executioner. There is my sword. I am prepared to take the consequences.’