However, I had got safe out of that dilemma, and it was time to put an end to this one, "Call the corporal of the guard," said I at last, with dignity, unwilling to make a night of it or to yield my incognito.
"Corporal ob de guard!" he shouted, lustily,--"Post Number Two!" while I could hear another sentinel chuckling with laughter.

This last was a special guard, placed over a tent, with a prisoner in charge.

Presently he broke silence.
"Who am dat ?" he asked, in a stage whisper.

"Am he a buckra [white man] ?" "Dunno whether he been a buckra or not," responded, doggedly, my Cerberus in uniform; "but I's bound to keep him here till de corporal ob de guard come." Yet, when that dignitary arrived, and I revealed myself, poor Number Two appeared utterly transfixed with terror, and seemed to look for nothing less than immediate execution.

Of course I praised his fidelity, and the next day complimented him before the guard, and mentioned him to his captain; and the whole affair was very good for them all.