en facing a sure future, looking sadly into each other's eyes.
Suddenly Elizabeth threw back her head proudly.

"Never!" she said. "Right is right. We must abide by the consequences
of our belief. We will work for the Union or sit idle!"

The testing of Elizabeth Van Lew had come. Fearlessly she made her
choice--fearlessly she took the consequences. From that moment her
story is the story of the Federal Spy.

II

"Out in the middle of the turbulent river James lay Belle Isle Prison
surrounded by its stockade. In the city of Richmond, at the foot of
Church Street, almost at Betty Van Lew's door, was the Libby, with its
grim, gray walls; only a stone's throw farther away were Castle
Lightning on the north side of Cary Street, and Castle Thunder on the
south side. In July of 1861 the battle of Bull Run was fought, and the
Confederate army defeated and put to flight by the Union soldiers. The
Libby, Belle Isle and Castle Thunder all were overflowing with scarred
and suffering human beings,--with sick men, wounded men, dying men,
and Northern prisoners." Here was work to do!

Down the aisles of the hastily converted hospitals and into dim prison
cells came almost daily a little woman with a big smile, always with
her hands full of flowers or delicacies, a basket swinging from her
arm. As she walked she hummed tuneless airs, and her expression was
such a dazed and meaningless one that the prison guards and other
soldiers paid little heed to the coming and going of "Crazy Bet," as
she was called. "Mis' Van Lew--poor creature, she's lost her balance
since the war broke out. She'll do no harm to the poor boys, and maybe
a bit of comfortin'. A permit? Oh yes, signed by General Winder
himself,--let her be!" Such was the verdict passed from sentry-guard
to sentry in regard to "Crazy Bet," who wandered on at will, humming
her ditties and ministering to whom she would.

One day a cautious guard noticed a strange dish she carried into the
prison. It was an old French platter, with double bottom, in which
water was supposed to be placed to keep the food on the platter hot.
The dish roused the guard's suspicions, and to a near-by soldier he
muttered something about it. Apparently unheeding him, "Crazy Bet"
passed on beyond the grim, gray walls, carrying her platter, but she
had heard his words. Two days later she came to the prison door again
with the strange dish in her hand wrapped in a shawl. The sentry on
guard stopped her.