n his favour."

She was measuring him then with a glance not less penetrating than his
own. Why should she seek now to save Prescott? But she would, if she
could. This was a threat that the Secretary might keep, but not at once,
and she would seek time.

"Captain Prescott has done me a great service," she said, "and naturally
I should be grateful to any who did as much for him."

"Perhaps some one who will do as much can be found," he said. "It may be
that I shall speak to him of you later and then he will claim the reward
that you promise."

It was on her lips to say that she promised nothing except gratitude,
but she withheld the words. It suddenly seemed fair to a singularly
honest mind to meet craft with craft. She had heard of the military
phrase, "in the air"; she would leave the Secretary in the air. So she
merely said:

"I am not in Captain Prescott's confidence, but I know that he will
thank you."

"He should," said the Secretary dryly, and left her.

Almost at the very moment that the Secretary was going to the Grayson
cottage Prescott was on his way to Winthrop's newspaper office.

There was little to be done, and a group including General Wood, who had
come that afternoon from Petersburg, sat in the old fashion by the stove
and talked of public affairs, especially the stage into which the war
had now come. The heat of the room felt grateful, as a winter night was
falling outside, and in the society of his friends Prescott found
himself becoming more of an optimist than he had been for some days.
Cheerfulness is riveted in such a physical base as youth and strength,
and Prescott was no exception. He could even smile behind his hand when
he saw General Wood draw forth the infallible bowie-knife, pull a piece
of pine from a rickety box that held fuel for the stove and begin to
whittle from it long, symmetrical shavings that curled beautifully. This
was certain evidence that General Wood, for the evening at least, was
inclined to look on the bright side of life.

Unto this placid group came two men, walking heavily up the wooden
stairs and showing signs of mental wear. Their eyebrows were raised with
surprise at the sight of Prescott, but they made no comment. They were
Harley and Redfield.

Harley approached Winthrop with a jovial air.

"I've found you a new contributor to your paper and he's ready to bring
you a most interesting piece of news."

Winthrop flipped the ash off his cigar and regarde