e rose and followed her out of the room; then he
gave way and implored her to be more prudent. If she would never come
there again he would go to her, he said. And so she gained another aid
in her determined purpose of 'striking at the very heart of the
Confederacy.'

"Another day there was a message of vital importance to send to
General Grant, who had asked her to make a report to him of the number
and placing of forces in and about Richmond. The cipher despatch was
ready, but if it were to reach Grant in time there was not an hour to
lose in finding a messenger. At that time no servant of hers could
leave the city, and no Federal agent could enter it. Hoping for an
inspiration, she took her huge market-basket on her arm, the basket
which was so familiar by this time as a part of 'Crazy Bet's' outfit,
and with it swinging at her side, humming a tuneless song, she passed
down the street, smiling aimlessly in return for mocking glances--and
all the while in her hand she held the key to Richmond's defenses!

"As she walked a man passed her and whispered, 'I'm going through
to-night!' then walked on just ahead of her. She gave no sign of
eagerness, but she was thinking: Was he a Federal agent to whom she
could intrust her message, or was he sent out by the police to entrap
her as had often been attempted? The cipher despatch in her hand was
torn into strips, each one rolled into a tiny ball. Should she begin
to drop them, one by one? In perplexity she glanced up into the man's
face. No! Her woman's instinct spoke loud and clear, made her turn
into a side street and hurry home. The next day she saw him marching
past her house for the front with his Confederate regiment, in the
uniform of a junior officer, and knew that once again she had been
saved from death."

But although she had many such escapes and her wit was so keen that it
was a powerful weapon in any emergency, yet as the conflict between
the North and the South deepened the need of caution became more
necessary than ever, for Confederate spies were everywhere. In her
half-destroyed diary which for many months lay buried near the Van Lew
house, over and over again the writer emphasizes her fear of
discovery. She says:

"If you spoke in your parlor or chamber, you whispered,--you looked
under the lounges and beds. Visitors apparently friendly were
treacherous.... Unionists lived ever in a reign of terror. I was
afraid even to pass the prison; I have had occas