"Parole!" replied the Marshall,--"parole! such a mere lad cannot know the
value of his promise."

A sudden fit of rashness came over me.

"He is a mere boy," reiterated the Marshall. "No, no--send him to prison;"
and he resumed the study of the printed paper he had been reading.

I struck in, impelled by despair, for, young as I was, I knew the
character of the man before whom I stood, and I remembered that even a
tiger might be checked by a bold front--"I am an Englishman, sir, and
incapable of breaking my plighted word."

He laid down the paper he was reading, and slowly lifted his eyes, and
fastened them on me,--"Ha," said he, "ha--so young--so reckless!"

"Never mind him, Marshal," said the colonel. "If you will grant him his
parole, I."--"Take it, colonel--take it--take his parole, not to go beyond
the ditch."

"But I decline to give any such promise," said I, with a hardihood which at
the time surprised me, and has always done so.

"Why, my good youth," said the Marshal in great surprise, "why will you
not take advantage of the offer--a kinder one, let me tell you, than I am
in the habit of making to an enemy?"

"Simply, sir, because I will endeavour to escape on the very first
opportunity."