egret that he should not
have time to do the thing he wished most to do; but he lost no time in
obeying the order.

The Secretary of War was in his office, sitting in a chair near the
window, and farther away slightly in the shadow was another figure, more
slender but stronger. Prescott recognized again, with that sudden and
involuntary feeling of fear, the power of the man. It was Mr. Sefton,
his face hidden in the shadows, and therefore wholly unread. But as
usual the inflexibility of purpose, the hardening of resolve followed
Prescott's emotion, and his figure stiffened as he stood at attention to
receive the commands of the mighty--that is, the Secretary of War of the
Confederate States of America.

But the Secretary of War was not harsh or fierce; instead, he politely
invited the young Captain to a chair and spoke to him in complimentary
terms, referring to his gallant services on many battlefields, and
declaring them not unknown to those who held the strings of power. Mr.
Sefton, from the security of the shadows, merely nodded to their guest,
and Prescott returned the welcome in like fashion, every nerve attuned
for what he expected to prove an ordeal.

"Many officers are brave," began the Secretary of War, "and it is not
the highest compliment when we call you such, Captain Prescott. Indeed,
we mean to speak much better of you when we say that you have bravery,
allied with coolness and intelligence. When we find these in one person
we have the ideal officer."

Prescott could not do less than bow to this flattery, but he wondered
what such a curious prelude foreshadowed. "It means no good to me," he
thought, "or he would not begin with such praise." But he said aloud:

"I am sure I have some zealous friend to thank for commendation so much
beyond my desert."

"It is not beyond your desert, but you have a friend to thank
nevertheless," replied the Secretary of War. "A friend, too, whom no man
need despise. I allude to Mr. Sefton here, one of the ablest members of
the Government, one who surpasses most of us in insight and pertinacity.
It is he who, because of his friendship for you and faith in you,
wishes to have you chosen for an important and delicate service which
may lead to promotion."

Prescott stared at this man whose words rang so hollow in his ear, but
he could see no sign of guile or satire on the face of the Secretary of
War. On the contrary, it bore every appearance of earnestness, and he
beca