"
"How long do you think we will be kept in here?" asked Shif'less Sol,
looking around at the room, which, though wide, was by no means so wide as
the forests of Kentucky.
"I do not know," replied the lieutenant, smiling--he understood the look
of the shiftless one, "but you shall not be ill-treated, and do not feel
that any disgrace lies upon you. This is a military prison. Good men have
been confined here; I myself, for instance, because of some little breach
of military discipline magnified by my officers into a fault. Oh, you
shall not suffer!"
He bustled about cheerily. He had food and drink brought to them, and then
he departed, volunteering to see that their private property on "The
Galleon" was saved and brought to them.
No one spoke for a little while after his going, and then the silence was
broken by a long, dismal sigh. It was drawn up from the depths of Long
Jim's chest.
"Are you sick, Jim?" asked Henry.
"Yes, Henry," replied Jim in a melancholy tone, "I'm sick; sick uv all
this jawin', sick uv seein' things pulled here, an' then pulled yonder,
sick uv hearin' people lyin', knowin' that they're lyin', and knowin' that
other people know that they're lyin'."
"Why, Jim," said Paul, who had a twinkle in his eye, "that's diplomacy,
and the man who practises it is called a diplomatist or diplomat.
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