"But, if I'm a liar, you're a gentleman, so take it and go on.

You need not ask me any more questions, for I shan't answer them." The lieutenant muttered something about hanging every Yankee he could catch if he could have his own way, and moved away; and Frank was left to finish his dinner in peace.
That afternoon, a soldier, whose name was Cabot, came and sat down beside Frank, and inquired: "Didn't you try to escape last night ?" "Yes, but I was discovered." "You would not have been, if one of our own men hadn't split on you." "What!" exclaimed Frank, "you don't pretend to say that a Federal soldier was mean enough to inform against me ?" "Yes, I do; and there he stands now." And, as Cabot spoke, he pointed to a tall, hard-featured man standing by the window, looking out into the street.

"I slept at the head of the stairs last night, and distinctly heard him tell the guards that you were intending to leave.
His name is Bishop, and he belongs to the Thirtieth Maine Regiment.

He has for some time past been trying to be allowed to take the oath of allegiance to the South." [Footnote: A fact.] "What will he do then ?" inquired Frank; "go into the rebel army ?" "No, but he could be employed here in the arsenal, making bullets to kill our own men with." "The scoundrel!" exclaimed Frank, indignantly; "I didn't suppose there was a man from my own State who could be guilty of such meanness." "He is mean enough for any thing.

Haven't you noticed that every night he comes around through our quarters with a candle ?" "Yes; but I don't know what he does it for." "Well, he counts us every night before he goes to sleep, and, in fact, comes through our room two or three times in the night, to see that none of us have escaped.