rchmont for a moment, sir."

The aide laid down his cards, and adjusted his plumage before a long
mirror. "Lieber Gott!" said Major Hertz, "I wish our general would go
sleep and leafe us play the game."

Captain Marchmont, proceeding to a handsomely furnished apartment,
knocked, entered, saluted, and was greeted by a general in a disturbed
frame of mind. "Look here, captain, you rode from Williamsport with that
fellow of Kelly's. Did you notice anything out of the usual?"

The aide deliberated. "He had a splendid horse, sir. And the man himself
seemed rather a mettled personage. If that's out of the usual, I noticed
that."

"Oh, of course he's all right!" said the general. "Kelly's letter is
perfectly _bona fide_, and so I make no doubt are McNeill's passport and
paper of instructions. I gave the letter back or I'd show you the
signatures. It's only that I got to thinking, awhile ago, after he'd
gone." He took a turn across the roses upon the carpet. "A man that's
been in politics knows there are so many dodges. Our spies say that
General Jackson is very acute. I got to thinking--" He came back to the
red-covered table. "Did you talk of the military situation coming
along?"

"Very little, sir."

"He wasn't inquisitive? Didn't criticise, or draw you on to talk--didn't
ask about my troops and my movements?"

"He did not, sir."

The general sighed. "It's all right, of course. You see, he seemed an
intelligent man, and we got to talking. I wrote my answer to General
Kelly. He has it now, is to start to Romney with it at dawn. Then I
asked some questions, and we got to talking. It's all straight, of
course, but on looking back I find that I said some things. He seemed an
intelligent man, and in his general's confidence. Well, I dismissed him
at last, and he saluted and went off to get some rest before starting.
And then, somehow, I got to thinking. I have never been South, and all
these places are only names to me, but--" He unrolled upon the table a
map of large dimensions. "Look here a moment, captain! This is a map the
department furnishes us. It's black, you see, for the utterly disloyal
sections, shaded for the doubtful, and white where there are Unionists.
All Virginia's black except this northwest section, and that's largely
shaded."

"What," asked Marchmont, "is this long black patch in the midst of the
shading?"

"That's the valley of the South Branch of the Potomac--see, it's marked!
Now, this man's f