"What," exclaimed Middlemore, retreating back a pace or
two, in unfeigned surprise; "has that pistol started up,
like the ghost in Hamlet, Ensign Paul, Emilius, Theophilus,
Arnoldi, of the United States Michigan Militia--a prisoner
on his parole of honor? and yet attempting a clandestine
departure from the country--how is this?"

"Not this merely," exclaimed Grantham, "but a traitor to
his country, and a deserter from our service. This fellow,"
he pursued, in answer to an inquiring look of his companion,
"is a scoundrel, who deserted three years since from the
regiment you relieved--I recognized him yesterday on his
landing, as my brother Gerald, who proposed making his
report to the General this morning, had done before. Let
us secure both, Middlemore, for, thank Heaven we have
been enabled to detect the traitor at last, in that which
will excuse his final expulsion from the soil, even if
no worse befall him. I have only tampered with him thus
long to render his conviction more complete."

"Secure me! secure Jeremiah Desborough?" exclaimed the
settler, with rage manifest in the clenching of his teeth
and the tension of every muscle of his iron frame, "and
that for jist tryin' to save a countryman--well, we'll
see who'll have the best of it."

Before Grantham could anticipate the movement, the active
and powerful Desborough had closed with him in a manner
to prevent his making use of his pistol, had he even so