When Solomon had gone to bed and the lights were blown, the young man felt every side of his predicament to see if there were any peaceable way out of it.

For hours he labored with this hopeless task, until he fell into a troubled sleep, in which he saw great battalions marching toward each other.

On one side, the figures of himself and Solomon were repeated thousands of times, and on the other was a host of Lionel Clarkes.
The words came to his ear: "My son, we're goin' to fight the first battle o' the war." Jack awoke suddenly and opened his eyes.

The candle was lighted.
Solomon was leaning over him.

He was drawing on his trousers.
"Come, my son," said the scout in a gentle voice.