d Illinois. Certainly, this was no little
knowledge to gain by two months' burrowing in the dark. But the
conspirators were not fools. They had necks which they valued. They
would not plunge into open disloyalty until some "crisis in public
affairs" should engage the attention of the authorities, and afford a
fair chance of success. Would the assembling of the Convention be such a
crisis? was now the question.

The question was soon answered. About this time, Lieutenant-Colonel B.
H. Hill, commanding the military district of Michigan, received a
missive from a person in Canada who represented himself to be a major in
the Confederate service. He expressed a readiness to disclose a
dangerous plot against the Government, provided he were allowed to take
the oath of allegiance, and rewarded according to the value of his
information. The Lieutenant-Colonel read the letter, tossed it aside,
and went about his business. No good, he had heard, ever came out of
Nazareth. Soon another missive, of the same purport, and from the same
person, came to him. He tossed this aside also, and went again about his
business. But the Major was a Southern Yankee,--the "cutest" sort of
Yankee. He had something to sell, and was bound to sell it, even if he
had to throw his neck into the bargain. Taking his life in his hand, he
crossed the frontier; and so it came about, that, late one night, a tall
man, in a slouched hat, rusty regimentals, and immense jack-boots, was
ushered into the private apartment of the Lieutenant-Colonel at Detroit.
It was the Major. He had brought his wares with him. They had cost him
nothing, except some small sacrifice of such trifling matters as honor,
fraternal feeling, and good faith towards brother conspirators, whom
they might send to the gallows; but they were of immense value,--would
save millions of money and rivers of loyal blood. So the Major said, and
so the Lieutenant-Colonel thought, as, coolly, with his cigar in his
mouth and his legs over the arm of his chair, he drew the important
secrets from the Rebel officer. Something good might, after all, come
out of Nazareth. The Lieutenant-Colonel would trust the fellow,--trust
him, but pay him nothing, and send him back to Toronto to worm out the
whole plan from the Rebel leaders, and to gather the whole details of
the projected expedition. But the Major knew with whom he was dealing.
He had faith in Uncle Sam, and he was right in having it; for, truth to
tell,