Israel was just on the point of fleeing, when overhearing the words of the master to the servant who now appeared, all dread departed: "Bring hither some wine!" It presently came; by order of the knight the salver was set down on a green bank near by, and the servant retired.
"My poor fellow," said Sir John, now pouring out a glass of wine, and handing it to Israel, "I perceive that you are an American; and, if I am not mistaken, you are an escaped prisoner of war.

But no fear--drink the wine." "Mr.Millet," exclaimed Israel aghast, the untasted wine trembling in his hand, "Mr.Millet, I--" "_Mr_.

Millet--there it is again.

Why don't you say _Sir John_ like the rest ?" "Why, sir--pardon me--but somehow, I can't.

I've tried; but I can't.