ge and constant demand
for service every man and woman of North and South instantly
responded. But none of the women gave such daring service as did
Elizabeth Van Lew. Known as a dauntless advocate of abolition and of
the Union, suspected of a traitor's disloyalty to the South, but with
that stain on her reputation as a Southerner unproved from the
commencement of the war until its close, her life was in continual
danger. She wrote a year later, "I was an enthusiast who never counted
it dear if I could have served the Union--not that I wished to die."
For four long years she awoke morning after morning to a new day of
suspense and threatening danger, to nights of tension and of horrible
fear. "No soldier but had his days and weeks of absolute safety. For
her there was not one hour; betrayal, friends' blunders, the
carelessness of others; all these she had to dread." All these she
accepted for the sake of a cause which she believed to be right and
just.

As her system of obtaining information in regard to movements of the
Confederates became more perfect, she was connected more closely with
the highest Federal authorities,--so closely connected, in fact, that
flowers which one day grew in her Richmond garden stood next morning
on General Grant's breakfast table.

"One day she received a letter from General Butler, which was to be
delivered to a Confederate officer on General Winder's staff. In the
letter this officer was asked to 'come through the lines and tell what
he knew,' and there were promises of rewards if it should be done
successfully. The Spy sat quietly thinking for some time after
receiving this letter. If it should fall into Confederate hands it
would be the death-warrant of its bearer. Who could be trusted to take
it to the officer for whom it was intended? Coolly Elizabeth Van Lew
arose, went out, and walked straight to the office of General Winder,
took the letter from her bosom, and handed it to the officer for whom
it was intended, watching him closely as he read it.

"In the next room were detectives and armed guards, the whole
machinery of the Confederate capital's secret police. The officer had
but to raise his voice and her game would be up; she would pay the
penalty of her daring with her life. She had been suspicious of the
officer for some weeks, had marked him as a traitor to his cause. Was
she right?

"His face whitened, his lips were set as he read, then, without a
quiver of a muscle, h