Braxton Wyatt quickly gave it.

He was angrier than ever, because he could not stir Henry Ware, whom he hated most of all, to open anger.
The march led straight to the Chateau of Beaulieu, across well-trimmed sward, and Henry's alert eye took in everything, the pretentious house, so unlike anything erected by his own people in Kentucky, the low outbuildings, and the occasional gleam of a uniform.
But Henry did not observe at this moment with any eye to the escape of himself and his comrades.

His condition of mind was spiritual and he felt a satisfaction for which he could not have accounted if he had tried.

He felt sure that his friends and he would escape.

He did not doubt it even now, when only one of the five was free in the woods out there.