, May 28,
_Richmond Enquirer_, May 22. There! You have them! Go in peace! Give my
respects to General McClellan! Townsend, old fellow, you have done your
full duty. Don't let this young person frighten you. Good by."

He gave me his hand, with a sinister glance, and left something in my
palm when his own was withdrawn. I examined it hastily when I girt up my
saddle. It said: "_Your budget got off safe, old fellow._" He had given
Kenty some old journals that were of no value to anybody. When we were
mounted and about to start, the Lieutenant looked witheringly upon his
persecutor--

"Allow me to say, sir," he exclaimed, "that you are the most unblushing
liar I ever knew."

"Thank you, kindly," said----, taking off his hat, "you do me honor!"

Our route was silent and weary enough. The young man at my side,
unconscious of his wily antagonist's deception, boasted for some time
that he had attained his purposes. As I could not undeceive him, I held
my tongue; but feared that when this trick should be made manifest, the
vengeance would fall on me alone. I heartily wished the unlucky papers
at the bottom of the sea. To gratify an adventurous whim, and obtain a
day's popularity at New York, I had exposed my life, crippled my nag,
and was now to be disgraced and punished. What might or might not befall
me, I gloomily debated. The least penalty would be expulsion from the
army; but imprisonment till the close of the war, was a favorite
amusement with the War Office. How my newspaper connection would be
embarrassed was a more grievous inquiry. It stung me to think that I had
blundered twice on the very threshold of my career. Was I not acquiring
a reputation for rashness that would hinder all future promotion and
cast me from the courts of the press. Here the iron entered into my
soul; for be it known, I loved Bohemia! This roving commission, these
vagabond habits, this life in the open air among the armies, the white
tents, the cannon, and the drums, they were my elysium, my heart! But to
be driven away, as one who had broken his trust, forfeited favor and
confidence, and that too on the eve of grand events, was something that
would embitter my existence.

We passed the familiar objects that I had so often buoyantly
beheld,--deserted encampments, cross-roads, rills, farm-houses, fields,
and at last came to Daker's. I called out to them, and explained my
woful circumstances with rueful conciseness.

It was growing dark whe