"Had Captain Lloyd been ill?" asked the President.

"No, Mr. President; not to my knowledge. He appeared to be in good health and spirits when I left him this afternoon; only exhausted from five days in the saddle. He told me he was going to lie down and rest, and that I was to send for him after I had seen Colonel Baker, who was then in Baltimore, and arranged for this lady's arrest."

"Take that chair, Symonds," said the President, "and tell us all you know of this affair."

Obediently Symonds pulled forward the chair indicated, and faced the President, much perturbed in mind.

"I met Colonel Baker, as Captain Lloyd directed, and gave him the information he had been waiting for. We came here, and, after consulting the Secretary, Colonel Baker ordered me to bring Captain Lloyd to this room.

"When I reached Mrs. Lane's boarding house, I went directly up to the captain's sitting room. I rapped and rapped on his door, but could get no response." Symonds paused impressively, and five pairs of eyes watched him almost without blinking. "The captain had told me he was a heavy sleeper; so, thinking I would have to shake him awake, I tried the door knob. It turned, and I entered. The room was dark except for the moonlight which came through the front windows.

"I saw that the communicating door leading to the captain's bedroom was open; so I went over to it and called Captain Lloyd's name. Not getting any answer, I walked into the room. It was pitch dark, and the next thing I knew I had tripped and fallen over a body...."

"You just stated that you found Captain Lloyd dead in bed," interposed the Secretary sharply.

"And so I did, sir."

"Then, what do you mean by saying you fell over his body on the floor?"

"It wasn't his body, sir."

"Get on, get on!" Stanton glared impatiently at Symonds, who had stopped and was nervously twirling his cap in his fingers. The President was intently watching Nancy, who sat on the edge of her chair listening to Symonds' slow speech with bated breath.

"I picked myself up, sir, considerably shaken, struck a match, found a burner and lighted the gas. Then I leaned over and looked at the man on the floor ... it was Major Goddard!"

A low cry of terror broke from Nancy. She reeled in her seat. Stanton viewed her emotion with grim satisfaction. He had found the vulnerable heel of Achilles.

"He wasn't ... Symonds, don't say it...."

Nancy pleaded. "Don't say he was——" Her hands were raised, as if to push some over-mastering horror from her.

"No, no, ma'am; he was only unconscious from a blow on his head." Symonds, shocked by her look of agony, spoke with unusual rapidity.

Nancy bowed her head in her hands; then, realizing that the four men were noting her every movement, she straightened herself and faced them with regained self-control.

"What next, Symonds?" exclaimed Stanton.

"I turned to the bed, and was astounded to see Captain Lloyd sleeping peacefully—at least, I thought so then. I rushed over and shook and shook him. The Lord forgive me! I was so excited over Major Goddard that I never thought, never suspected. I had pushed Captain Lloyd up in bed by that time in my efforts to rouse him. To my unutterable horror, he fell back in my arms a dead weight, and my hand accidentally touched his cold face. I quickly unbuttoned his shirt and placed my ear over his heart, but could detect no action there, nor any pulse when I clutched his wrist.

"It took me a few minutes to collect myself; then I called the landlady, Mrs. Lane. She sent one of her boarders for the provost marshal. When he arrived, I turned the rooms over to him, and came on here to report to the Secretary."

"Did you send for a physician, Symonds?" asked Lincoln.

"Yes, Mr. President. Doctor Ward reached the boarding house a few minutes before the provost marshal. He declared Captain Lloyd had apparently been dead for some hours, and that Major Goddard was unconscious from a blow on the head."

"Did he make an examination as to the cause of Captain Lloyd's death?" inquired Stanton.

"No, Mr. Secretary. He said that the captain was beyond his help, and that Major Goddard needed immediate attention. He dressed the major's wound at once, and then I helped him lift the still unconscious officer onto the other bed."

"Had Major Goddard regained consciousness before you left?"

"No, Mr. Secretary. He had lost a great deal of blood, and Doctor Ward said it might be hours before he came to himself. The doctor seemed to fear concussion of the brain," he added thoughtfully.

A low sigh escaped Nancy. Only the President noticed her agitation. The other men had forgotten her presence, so absorbed were they in Symonds' story.

"The provost marshal stationed a guard about the house," resumed Symonds, before the Secretary could frame another question. "He placed Mrs. Lane and her whole household under arrest pending an investigation."

"He did right," was Stanton's brief comment. "The affair is certainly mysterious. Did the room look as if there had been a fight?"

"No, Mr. Secretary. There was a good deal of blood collected on the floor about Major Goddard's head; but not even a chair was overturned. When I first reached him, Captain Lloyd lay as if asleep, covered by a bed quilt."

"Strange!" muttered Stanton, and he looked at the President, who sat tilted back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head, gazing through lowered lids at the scene before him. As Lincoln made no comment, and Warren was equally silent, he continued his questions more briskly. "Undoubtedly Major Goddard will satisfactorily explain what took place in the room before Captain Lloyd's death, and who his assailant was, as soon as he regains consciousness. Now, we have a more pressing matter to attend to to-night." With a wave of his hand, he indicated Nancy. "This afternoon Captain Lloyd showed you a paper, a cipher despatch, written by this young lady..."

"I protest," interrupted Nancy vehemently, "against such a base accusation."

"...taken by him from Major George Pegram, a rebel spy, did he not?" continued Stanton, paying no heed to Nancy.

"Yes, Mr. Secretary; he showed me such a paper," admitted Symonds.

"Did it occur to you, Symonds, to take possession of that paper before it fell into other hands?"

"It did, sir."

"Good. Give it to me." And Stanton stretched out an eager hand.

"I—I—can't, Mr. Secretary," stammered the Secret Service agent. "I searched all the captain's belongings before the provost marshal arrived; but the pocketbook containing the despatch had disappeared."



CHAPTER XVII

IN CLOSE CONFINEMENT

Stanton's face hardened, and he wheeled on Nancy.

"Where is that paper?" he demanded curtly.

"I do not know."

The Secretary's eyes were the first to fall before the girl's steady gaze.

"I have wasted quite enough time with you," he snapped. "Baker, conduct Miss Newton to Old Capitol Prison, and have her placed in close confinement."

"Wait." Senator Warren rose. "Your pardon, Mr. Secretary; but so far you have produced no direct evidence to prove your charge against Miss Newton. Therefore, I demand her immediate release."

"It is impossible to grant your request. Miss Newton is too dangerous a character to leave at large. She will have an opportunity to prove her innocence of the charges against her before a military commission."

"Charges?" said Nancy inquiringly, as she picked up her wrap in obedience to a sign from Baker. "Charges, did you say, Mr. Secretary? Your threats multiply with lightning rapidity."

"Charges, madam," sternly, "as a rebel spy, and, as such, conniving at the death of Captain Lloyd and stealing the paper which proves your guilt."

"It is monstrous!" cried Nancy hotly. "Symonds' own words prove Captain Lloyd died naturally in his bed. As to the paper, I have repeatedly told you I know nothing of it. It may be simply a fabrication of this man's excited imagination. You have only his word against mine that it ever existed."

"Very true, madam; but I prefer to take his word." Stanton's tone of overbearing finality made Nancy clench her hands with rage. She turned appealingly to Lincoln.

"Mr. President, in the name of justice I ask for fair play."

Lincoln unlocked his big, bony hands, brought his chair softly down on its four legs, and rose awkwardly.

"There is much to be explained, Miss Nancy; and Secretary Stanton is right in the stand he is taking," he said unwillingly. How gladly would he have spoken otherwise! "I cannot interfere." Nancy blanched, and bit her lips to hide their trembling. Nothing escaped the President, and his worn, unlovely face grew tender. "I give you my word, you shall have a fair and impartial trial. Warren, go with Baker and see what you can do to soften Miss Nancy's imprisonment."

"Thanks, Mr. President." But he had turned back to the desk and did not see Nancy's half-extended hand, or hear her faltering voice. Her hand dropped to her side, and, choking back a sob, she followed Senator Warren and Baker out of the room.

Nancy had only a confused idea of what followed: the drive to the provost marshal's office, his questions and cross-questions, the signing of papers, all were but the hazy outlines of some fearful nightmare from which she must soon awake. She was hurried from the provost marshal's and into the carriage again. The rapid hoof beats of the horses kept pace with the pounding of her heart.

"Here we are, Nancy." Warren touched her on the shoulder as their carriage stopped in front of the Old Capitol Prison.

Baker sprang out, and beckoned to a soldier standing before the doorway. Nancy followed the Secret Service officer more slowly and paused, as the guard gathered about her, to gaze at the twinkling stars and fill her lungs with the cold, fresh air which fanned her hot cheeks.

"Come!" Nancy shuddered involuntarily as Baker's hand closed over her arm in no gentle grip. "This way." And they entered a wide hall.

A number of soldiers lounged on the benches which lined the walls on both sides. Recognizing Baker, they rose, and stood at attention.

"This way, Colonel," said the corporal of the guard. "Superintendent Wood is still in his office." And he preceded them down the hall.

Nancy answered apathetically all the questions the superintendent shot at her.

"Room No. 10, second floor, women's section," said the latter to an orderly, as he closed the register and filed his papers away. "See that clean bedding is taken there at once." The soldier saluted and hastened out of the room. "Now, Miss Newton, follow me." He led her into a smaller apartment where a stout woman and two colored assistants stood waiting. "The matron has to search you. Let me know when you have finished," he directed, and banged to the door.

Nancy submitted quietly to the ordeal. Her thoughts were elsewhere; she hardly noticed what the others did. She was soon told to put on her clothes, and the matron, leaving her under the watchful eyes of the other women, stepped out of the room. In a few minutes she returned and beckoned Nancy to the door. She found Senator Warren and the superintendent waiting in the hall.

"I sent to your aunt for some necessary clothes for you, Nancy, and the superintendent, here, says they will be brought to you as soon as my messenger returns with them."

"After they have been examined by me," put in Wood gruffly. "Your quarters are in Carrol Prison, where the women are confined."

He pointed up the dirty staircase, and Nancy, preceded by the corporal of the guard, climbed wearily up them, and turned down a long corridor. The corporal stopped before an open door midway down the hall, and signed to her to enter. Senator Warren, who had accompanied her by Wood's permission, stepped forward.

"I must perforce leave you here," he said; then, seeing the hunted look in Nancy's weary eyes, he added pityingly: "Don't be so worried, child; keep a brave heart. Your aunt and I will have you out of here in no time."

Nancy turned and impulsively kissed him. "You dear, faithful friend," she murmured brokenly.

"There, there." The senator's own eyes were moist. He thought of his little daughter at home under a watchful mother's care. What if she were in prison, suspected of grave crimes? He patted Nancy's wavy hair with tender hand.

"Senator"—her voice was so low he barely caught her halting words—"won't you get word to me to-morrow without fail about—about——"

"About what, child?"

"About Major Goddard's condition. I—I—must know."

Bravely and unashamed, she looked squarely at Warren. His shrewd eyes softened as he read the story of an untold love in her blushing face.

One second more and the door slammed to; the bolt was shot, and Nancy, with wide, curious eyes, stood gazing at her new surroundings by the aid of a half-burnt candle. The room was small and unspeakably dirty. A wooden cot with its straw mattress stood in the corner farthest from the window; a broken-down wash stand with a tin basin was in another corner, and a wooden chair without a back occupied the center of the room.

While Nancy was taking stock of her furniture, the door was opened and a bundle of clothes tossed unceremoniously inside. She waited until she heard the door relocked; then took up her belongings, which were well tumbled by the inspection they had undergone. There were some pegs in the walls, and Nancy hung her wrap on one of them; then walked over to the window.

Her room looked out on a court formed by the wings of the buildings. A high platform wide enough for two men to pass each other had been erected on the top of the fence at the back, and she caught the gleam of the moonlight on the sentries' bayonets as it was reflected back by the burnished steel. There was no curtain of any kind in the window. The dirt on the window-panes was her only protection against prying eyes. So Nancy pushed the stool over by the bed, piled her extra clothing on the foot of the bed, and carefully blew out the candle before undressing.

It was a relief to get her clothes off, and she sat on the edge of the bed listening to the sentry's unceasing tramp up and down the corridor. Suddenly the silence was broken by the sentry's call from outside: "Post No. 1! Two o'clock, and all's well!"

As the call sounded from post to post, Nancy threw herself face down on the hard mattress.

"Bob, Bob," she moaned, "what evil fortune led you into that room!"



CHAPTER XVIII

WHEN DOCTORS DISAGREE

The next morning all Washington was agog over the news of Nancy's arrest as a rebel spy, and Captain Lloyd's sudden death. All day long Miss Metoaca's negro butler kept trotting to the front door in answer to the frantic ringing of the bell, and to every anxious inquiry he invariably replied: "Miss Turkey's only tol'able, thank yo', and she begs to be 'scused."

Late in the afternoon Senator Warren walked heavily up the steps. Old Jonas, who had seen him coming along C Street, stood waiting on the threshold, and without a word took his hat and cane.

"Dis way, Marse Senator." He helped him off with his overcoat. "We's been 'spectin' yo' all day, suh."

Miss Metoaca, hollow-eyed and weary, dropped the shawl she was pretending to knit, and rose quickly when she caught sight of Warren.

"What news?" she asked, scanning his face anxiously.

The senator motioned her to resume her seat, and drew up a chair by her. He hesitated perceptibly for a second; then answered her query with another: "Have you seen Nancy?"

"No. I went to the Old Capitol Prison the first thing this morning, and saw Superintendent Wood. He told me I would have to get a permit from the judge advocate general before he could allow me to talk with Nancy. I immediately went to see Judge Holt, and he curtly refused my request. Then I went to the President, who told me he would talk it over with Stanton. I knew what that meant; so did not waste any time waiting, but came straight home."

Warren nodded his head gravely. "That is about what I expected. Nancy is in close confinement, charged with the most serious offense possible in war times. I doubt if I, her legal representative, am allowed to see her until this mystery is a little more cleared up.

"Stanton is already wrought up over the fact that the key to his cipher code is known outside of his office. He will move heaven and earth to discover how Nancy secured the key to the information she is accused of giving to Pegram. She can expect no leniency there. Baker also is determined to prove that she stole the recovered despatch from Lloyd. He insists she is implicated in some way in the captain's mysterious death."

Miss Metoaca drew a long breath. "It looks as if the odds were against Nancy having a fair chance to prove her innocence," she sighed. "Have you any idea when she will be brought to trial?"

"When I saw him just now, Judge Holt was busy selecting officers to serve on a military commission."

"I was told it would be a court-martial."

"Not necessarily." Warren drew out a sheet of paper. "I asked Judge Holt about it, and he gave this copy of the eighty-second article of war, enacted in 1862, which reads: 'All persons, who in time of war, or of rebellion against the supreme authority of the United States, shall be found lurking or acting as spies in or about any of the fortifications, posts, quarters, or encampments of any of the armies of the United States, or elsewhere, shall be triable by a general court-martial, or by a military commission, and shall, on conviction, suffer death.'"

His voice unconsciously deepened on the last solemn word, and Miss Metoaca's face went gray.

"I wish you men were not so fond of plain language," she exclaimed irritably. "Please remember they have not yet proved anything against Nancy."

"Quite true. But you must also recollect, Miss Metoaca, that a military commission will accept evidence which a civil court would throw out."

"But, Senator, the despatch which Stanton claims Nancy wrote cannot be found. Therefore, it is impossible for them to bring it up as proof against her."

"I am not so sure of that."

"Tut! They have only Symonds' word that such a paper ever existed."

"True; but Symonds is a man whose word can be relied on. His story will be accepted as direct evidence, and it will, I fear, be hard to shake his testimony."

"Have you learned anything that throws light on Captain Lloyd's death?" inquired Miss Metoaca, after a slight pause.

Warren moved his chair nearer the sofa, and glanced about to see that he was not overheard.

"The mystery deepens," he said gravely. "By order of the President, I was allowed to hear the result of the autopsy held this morning."

"What was it?" demanded Miss Metoaca breathlessly.

"After a prolonged and careful examination, the surgeons declare that they could find no wound or mark of violence on Captain Lloyd's body; nor any trace of poison in his system. Therefore, they were forced to believe, in the absence of any particular symptom, or pathological appearance, that he died from some cause, or causes, to them unknown." Warren paused in the rapid reading of his notes in his memorandum book; then resumed dryly: "In my state, the country people would describe Lloyd's death as 'a visitation of God.'"

"Well, Providence might have been worse employed," said Miss Metoaca abruptly, and her face cleared. "Doesn't the autopsy settle that preposterous charge against Nancy?"

"I have not finished telling you all that I heard from the surgeons," went on Warren patiently. "They also said that it was just possible that the last five days in the saddle without sufficient food or sleep might have produced heart failure, but they judged that extremely unlikely——"

"I don't call that bad news," broke in Miss Metoaca. "Seems to me that statement clears Nancy absolutely."

"Unfortunately, Doctor Ward contends that the symptoms would be the same if Lloyd had been suffocated by some anaesthetic, chloroform, for instance."

"Suffocated!" ejaculated Miss Metoaca, half rising in her surprise. "What nonsense! They would have detected the smell of chloroform."

"Not necessarily," again returned Warren. "Lloyd had been dead some hours before they found him; secondly, one of the windows was open top and bottom, which ventilated the room. The chloroform probably evaporated quickly, and left no tell-tale odor behind."

"And do you mean to tell me that those idiots believe on such flimsy evidence as that that Nancy killed Lloyd!" exclaimed Miss Metoaca wrathfully. "Do you believe a young, delicate, high-strung girl, like Nancy, could commit such a cold-blooded murder?"

"Nancy's sex will not protect her when the passions of men are roused. Do you suppose that a suspected spy will not be an object of hatred in these days?"

Miss Metoaca nodded sullenly in agreement. She knew the opprobrium and scorn which were heaped on rebel sympathizers in Baltimore and Washington, and realized the justice of Warren's comment.

"This is not the day of miracles," continued the senator, "and it is stretching probability to the breaking point to believe that Lloyd died from natural causes at the very moment when his death would be of benefit to Nancy. In addition to this, there is the disappearance of that important despatch."

Miss Metoaca made no remark, so Warren resumed his argument.

"The first and most important thing in solving a murder mystery is to find a motive for the crime. When that is once established, the means are easy to prove. The thing that will militate the most against Nancy is the timeliness of Captain Lloyd's death.

"The military commission will undoubtedly believe that Nancy, realizing that Lloyd could prove she was a rebel spy, resorted to murder to silence the one man whose evidence would hang her. I fear, I greatly fear, Nancy will have a hard time convincing the commission that, if not actually the criminal, she did not connive at Captain Lloyd's death."

"It is an outrage!" fumed Miss Metoaca. "I am willing to stake my immortal soul that Nancy had nothing to do with the captain's mysterious death, nor with the disappearance of that miserable despatch."

"My wife and I also believe in Nancy's innocence," declared Warren warmly; "and I give you my solemn word of honor, Miss Metoaca, that I will do everything within my power to assist her."

"God forever bless you!" Miss Metoaca leaned forward, and impulsively clasped his hand in both of hers. "You give me renewed courage. Tell me," as Warren's eyes strayed to the clock on the mantel, "have you heard how Major Goddard is getting on?"

"I stopped at Mrs. Lane's this morning, but the corporal of the provost marshal's guard stationed about the house refused to admit me. Fortunately I met Doctor Ward on his way out from seeing Goddard, and he told me that the major had regained consciousness, but was very weak and unable to talk. I drove at once to the Old Capitol Prison, and induced Wood to promise to tell Nancy that Major Goddard was recovering. I hope the message gave her some comfort, poor girl!"

"Senator," Miss Metoaca lowered her voice until she almost whispered, "Major Goddard and Nancy were thrown together day after day while we were in Winchester. We both felt so sorry for him, and Nancy used to talk or read to him continually during his convalescence. I watched them both, and it gradually dawned on me that the major worshipped the ground Nancy walked on. Now, is it not possible that he overheard Lloyd tell Symonds he had secured a paper which might hang Nancy?"

"Yes," agreed the senator, seeing she paused for a reply.

"Men have thrown worlds away before now to win a woman's love," went on Miss Metoaca so rapidly that her words tumbled over each other. "God knows, I don't want to turn suspicion against an innocent man; but do you not think it possible that Major Goddard...?"

"Killed his friend and secured the paper," finished Warren, as she hesitated. "Possible, but not probable."

"Why not?" demanded Miss Metoaca heatedly. "It is more probable than that Nancy should have committed the murder."

"Men have done many mad deeds for love," pursued Warren, paying no attention to her interruption, "but they cannot accomplish the impossible. You think Goddard stepped into that bedroom, chloroformed Lloyd, and then stole the wallet containing that despatch?"

Miss Metoaca nodded her head without speaking.

"How could a blind man do all that and not overturn one thing in the room?" asked Warren quietly.



CHAPTER XIX

GROPING IN THE DARK

"How do you know he didn't?" snapped Miss Metoaca, sticking to her theory with grim determination.

"Because Symonds declares there was no sign of confusion in the room when he found the two men—one dead—one unconscious."

"Always Symonds!" grumbled Miss Metoaca disgustedly. "He is a regular Jack-in-the-box. I don't care what he says. I firmly believe Major Goddard is responsible for Lloyd's death, if he really was killed, which I think is open to doubt."

"I thought as you do at first," agreed the senator, "but I found on closer examination that the theory would not hold water. In the first place, Goddard, being blind, had, and has, to feel his way about—probably had to grope around Lloyd's body to locate his face—which would undoubtedly have aroused the sleeping man...."

"Wait a bit," interrupted Miss Metoaca. "Even if he did awaken Lloyd, the latter would have thought nothing of finding his friend by his bedside. They were roommates—and probably, after speaking to Goddard, he rolled over and went to sleep again.

"Then there's another thing," pursued Miss Metoaca eagerly, as Warren nodded a silent agreement to her statement. "Symonds declares Lloyd's wallet was stolen. Why should Nancy take the book when all she needed was the one single paper, which Stanton contends concerned her?

"Now, Major Goddard is blind. It was impossible for him to pick out that paper from others; therefore, he would have been forced to steal the pocketbook."

"That appears plausible," admitted Warren, "but it is just as plausible to suppose that Nancy, fearing she would be discovered in Lloyd's room, did not dare to stop and open the pocketbook there, and so took it away with her."

"You seem mighty anxious to believe Nancy took the despatch," commented Miss Metoaca, and disappointment lent bitterness to her voice.

"You mistake me," protested Warren warmly. "I will do my utmost to clear Nancy of these terrible charges; but I fear there is no use trying to prove Goddard guilty. After Symonds discovered the pocketbook was missing, he and Doctor Ward searched Goddard's clothing, as well as the room, but found no trace of the book or the despatch."

"Have you formed any theory as to how Major Goddard came to be lying in the room unconscious?" inquired Miss Metoaca.

"Well." Warren stroked his gray beard thoughtfully. "He may have had an attack of vertigo, or, mind you, this is wild guessing, perhaps he and Lloyd quarreled, and the latter struck him, forgetting his friend's blindness."

"And perhaps the excitement and shock of a quarrel with his best friend brought on Lloyd's attack of heart failure," put in Miss Metoaca excitedly.

"Only time—and Goddard—can tell." Warren shrugged his shoulders as he rose to go. "At present, Miss Metoaca, we are all groping in the dark, but I hope for enlightenment soon."

"When will the military commission hold the trial?" Miss Metoaca followed Warren into the hall.

"As soon as Major Goddard is able to testify. He is one of the most important witnesses. Now, Miss Metoaca, do stop worrying." Warren was shocked by the change in the spinster's worn face, which he saw more clearly in the light from the open door. "I will let you know the moment something new turns up."

"Be careful how you send news to me," cautioned Miss Metoaca. "This house is under constant surveillance. The Secret Service men were here all the morning, going through Nancy's belongings, and searching the entire house from top to bottom. They even overturned Aunt Betsy's barrel of soft soap. The Lord only knows what they expected to find there. I wished they had done it before they handled my clothes, there would be less dirty finger marks on them." Miss Metoaca snorted with suppressed indignation. "Our wardrobes are simply ruined. Good-bye, Senator Warren; my love to your dear wife. I can never thank you enough for all your kindness." Her lips quivered, and her shrewd old eyes filled with most unwonted tears.

"Please don't," pleaded Warren, much embarrassed. "You and Nancy have warm friends, who will stand by you through thick and thin. You must not get discouraged."

"Discouraged?" echoed Miss Metoaca, winking violently. "When I think of my dear Nancy in that place—I'd—I'd—like to murder some one myself!" And she slammed the front door viciously as a slight vent to her over-wrought feelings.

About the same hour that Senator Warren and Miss Metoaca were conferring together, Colonel Baker, much dissatisfied in mind, was walking moodily along F Street. Things had not gone to suit him that day. The result of the autopsy had puzzled him; the search of Miss Metoaca's house had proved disappointing, for nothing had been found there that in any way touched on the supposed murder, or on the whereabouts of the missing and all-important despatch. As he crossed the street on his way to the Ebbitt House, he encountered Symonds hurrying out of the F Street entrance of the hotel.

"Well, Symonds, what news?" he asked briefly, returning the other's salute.

"I hear that Major Goddard has regained consciousness, Colonel."

"Good!" Baker hesitated a moment; then turned on his heel. "Come with me, Symonds." And he led the way to Mrs. Lane's. The sentry on duty before the house saluted as he recognized him, and allowed him to enter the dwelling.

Baker wasted no time downstairs, but went directly to Lloyd's sitting room, and rapped softly on the door. In response to his knock, a nurse appeared in the doorway.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I have come to see your patient, Major Goddard, who I am told has regained consciousness."

"Oh, that is impossible," exclaimed the nurse, and she made a movement to close the door.

"One moment!"—sternly—"I am Colonel Baker, of the Secret Service. It is imperative that I see Major Goddard at once. I will not stay long." And he edged toward the doorway.

The young nurse had but recently joined the United States Sanitary Commission, and she was overawed by Baker's authoritative manner.

"Doctor Ward has forbidden ... still," she murmured, "if you will stay but a few minutes...." She moved reluctantly aside, and Baker stepped into the room, followed by Symonds.

"Don't worry," said the colonel kindly. "I will explain my presence to Doctor Ward; you will not be blamed. Where is your patient?"

"In the next room. He has been asleep all the afternoon, but is awake now."

With noiseless steps Colonel Baker made his way into the next room, and drew up a chair by Goddard's bedside. Nothing had been disturbed in the room; the furniture had been left as it was before Lloyd's death. A feeble attempt had been made to remove the blood stains in front of the mantel; but the servant had only succeeded in spreading the stains over the rag carpet.

Goddard moved restlessly, and turned over in bed, so that he faced Baker; his quick ear had caught the slight sound the newcomer made in seating himself.

"Nurse, is it you?" His voice was scarcely more than a whisper.

"No, Major Goddard; it is I, Colonel Baker."

"Baker?" Goddard spoke half to himself. "Baker? Not Colonel Baker, of the Secret Service?" attempting to rise in bed.

"The same, sir, but that need not excite you. Here, let me put this pillow at your back; you might then be more comfortable." Baker leaned over, and lifted Goddard up in his strong arms as Symonds slipped the pillow in place.

"Thanks. Who is the other person in the room?" inquired Goddard weakly.

"Symonds."

"Symonds!" Goddard's eyelids fluttered over his sightless eyes. Baker did not care to break the pause that followed. Suddenly Goddard roused himself. "What can I do for you, Colonel?"

"Just answer a few questions as to what happened here yesterday afternoon. I won't keep you talking long."

"I—I—am not very strong," faltered Goddard faintly.

"You had a nasty fall," sympathized Baker, "and lost a lot of blood before Symonds found you."

"Found me! Where?"

"Right on this floor, sir," volunteered Symonds. "You gave me an awful turn, sir; for you looked more dead than..."—he stopped abruptly as he met Baker's warning glare ... "alive," he supplemented feebly.

At that moment the nurse came in from the sitting room and touched Baker on the shoulder. "You must go at once," she whispered. "You are staying too long. Major Goddard must not be excited."

"In a second, nurse." Baker waved her impatiently away, and turned again to Goddard. "Had you and Captain Lloyd been talking long before you fell?"

After a prolonged pause came the whisper: "I—I—cannot remember."

Nothing daunted, the Secret Service officer pursued his examination.

"Did Captain Lloyd tell you that an important despatch, proving Miss Nancy Newton a rebel spy, had been stolen from him by her?"

Goddard was so long in answering that Baker glanced anxiously at the silent figure on the bed. Goddard's face matched the whiteness of the pillow case. He must have felt the scrutiny of Baker's searching eyes, for he moved slightly. Again came the same whisper: "I—I—cannot remember."

"Now, see here." Baker's voice rose.

Goddard held up a shaking hand. "Wait, Colonel," he stammered. "You forget I am ill—faint—perhaps later—" He paused for breath. "Instead of coming to me, why don't you ask Captain Lloyd?"

"For the very good reason that Lloyd is dead," returned Baker solemnly.

"Dead!" Goddard half rose; then sank back on his pillows, panting from his exertions.

"Yes, dead," went on Baker, watching him closely. "Brutally murdered last evening." He paused.

"Where?" Goddard's white lips formed the question; the whispered word could hardly be heard.

"Here in this room while lying on his bed. Now, Major Goddard, I insist upon knowing..." He spoke to deaf ears; Goddard had fainted away.

A firm hand descended on Baker's shoulder, and swung him about face.

"What in hell do you mean by browbeating my nurse and forcing yourself in here!" exclaimed Doctor Ward hotly. "Good God! What have you done to Goddard!" He had caught sight of the latter's ghastly face. "Nurse, look to your patient! Now, sir, out with you." He pushed Baker in the direction of the door. "And you go, too, Symonds," as the man rose and stood uncertain whether or not to assist Colonel Baker in his efforts to remain in the room.

"I have a perfect right to come here," stormed Baker, bracing his thick-set figure against the door jamb. "I am investigating Captain Lloyd's murder, and came here to get Major Goddard's testimony. You forget, Doctor, I am the head of the Secret Service of this city."

"I don't care a damn who you are," roared Ward, much incensed. "In managing a sick room, I take my orders from no one. Major Goddard was in no condition to be interviewed. I have carefully kept all sensational news from him. By your crass stupidity you have probably brought on a relapse. When he is able he will give his testimony before a court composed of his superior officers and to no one else. Now, go!" And he closed the door in Baker's indignant face.



CHAPTER XX

THE TURNING POINT

Doctor Ward's fears for his patient's condition were well founded. The shock of his interview with Baker in his weakened condition brought on an attack of brain fever, and for days Goddard's life hung in the balance. An experienced Sister of Mercy replaced the young nurse from the United States Sanitary Commission; and at Doctor Ward's earnest request the provost marshal stationed a sentry at Goddard's door with orders to admit no one to the sick room except by the doctor's express permission. Anxious days followed, the doctor and the nurse grimly contesting each step of the way as Goddard sank nearer and nearer the Valley of the Shadow.

Ward bent over the bed, and anxiously scanned Goddard's bloodless face; then rose and tiptoed softly about the room. He was weary from his long vigil by the bedside; it was a relief to stretch his cramped limbs while he waited for the crisis to pass.

"Have you heard anything more about the arrangements for Miss Newton's trial?" asked Sister Angelica softly.

"No, except that the hearing has been again postponed."

"I cannot believe the charges against Miss Newton," murmured the sister. "I have seen her frequently at the hospitals when she came to read to the convalescents and bring them pickles."

"Pickles?"

"Yes, sir. The soldiers prefer them to many luxuries. I have seen Miss Newton do many kind and generous acts. It is incredible that she should have planned and carried out so deliberate and cold-blooded a murder."

"Judge Holt asked me to-day—" The doctor's hurried whisper was interrupted by a sound from the bed, and he hurried to his patient.

Goddard lay on his back, gazing with unseeing eyes at the ceiling, one thin arm tossed across the pillow. "Nancy," he whispered; "Nancy!"

"He is always calling her name," murmured Sister Angelica. "Poor fellow—poor girl!"

"Aye," muttered Ward under his breath. "God help them both—one here and one in prison!"

"Nancy." Goddard's weak voice seemed to gain in strength. "Don't cry, dear. I am coming." A feeble smile lighted his face; he turned slightly, his eyes closed, and, with a sigh like a tired child, he slept.

Ward's hand sought Goddard's pulse. He touched the white cheek. The skin was cool and moist. Turning to the nurse, his eyes dancing with delight, he whispered: "The fever is broken. At last Major Goddard is sleeping naturally."

Sister Angelica's fervid "Thank God!" was lost in the folds of the sash curtain as she pulled up the shade and let the daylight enter the sick room.

* * * * *

The days passed on leaden feet for Nancy. The suspense and close confinement told even on her splendid constitution, and she grew but a shadow of her former self. The prison food was not inviting; only when pangs of hunger forced her could she swallow the unappetizing half-cooked meats and sour bread which were brought to her on a tin plate by a slatternly negress.

Occasionally the superintendent sent her word of Robert Goddard's condition, but that was all she heard from the outside world. The negress, who tidied her room and brought her meals, had received orders not to speak to the prisoner, and the soldiers on guard at the prison were, with few exceptions, Germans, who did not understand or speak much English. Sometimes Nancy actually ached to hear the sound of friendly voices. The only break in the daily monotony was the nine-o'clock inspection of prisoners, which occurred each morning, as well as at night. Nancy spent most of her days standing near the window and gazing with wistful eyes at the other prisoners, who were allowed fresh-air exercise in the courtyard under the watchful eyes of the sentries.

The horrors of the long, sleepless nights were added to by the presence of rats, who scampered noisily back and forth across the bare floor. Nancy had discovered one on her bed the second night of her imprisonment, and her screams brought the guard on the double quick.

"Vat ess de drouble?" he demanded, dashing open the door. He leveled his Springfield full at the girl, and she heard the click of the hammer. Another soldier came in, carrying a lantern, and Nancy, huddled in one corner of her cot, hastily drew the bedclothes about her.

"Rats. Look!" And she pointed to a gray body disappearing down a hole in one of the corners of the room.

"Ah, Himmel! Dey ess all ober," remarked the guard stolidly, as he lowered his rifle. "Dere ess no use to holler. We can do nuddings."

"Do you mean to say I have to lie here while those vile creatures run over me?" exclaimed Nancy wrathfully.

"Ya."

"Go tell Superintendent Wood I wish to see him at once," imperiously.

"Nein," both soldiers spoke at once.

"And you call yourselves men!" ejaculated Nancy scornfully.

"We fight mit Siegel for de Union," retorted the sentry, retreating to the hall, "and not mit rats." He shut the door and shot the bolt in place. Nancy was once again in solitary confinement.

* * * * *

To Miss Metoaca and Senator Warren the days fled by all too quickly. Try as they did, they could find no evidence, no clue that would benefit Nancy, or prove another guilty of the crime she was charged with. Secretary Stanton was deaf to all appeals that Nancy's captivity be lightened, and that her aunt be permitted to see her.

"Treason must be, shall be, punished," he declared. "Miss Newton will be given an opportunity to clear herself of the charges against her before a military commission. Until then she must remain in solitary confinement."

Miss Metoaca refused to be cast down by her rebuffs, and doggedly persisted in her efforts to obtain Nancy's freedom. She took no part in the city's mad rejoicing over the fall of Richmond; she was too sick at heart over her niece's threatened fate.

On the afternoon of the eighth of April she was taking off her wraps in her own room in a thoroughly discouraged frame of mind. She had just called on Doctor Ward, who had courteously but firmly refused to allow her to see Goddard.

"What is it, Jonas?" she demanded crossly, in answer to a timid knock on her door.

"Mrs. Arnold an' Mrs. Bennett am down in de pawler, Miss Turkey." No negro had ever been able to pronounce Miss Metoaca's name, and she had been accustomed from childhood to being called "Miss Turkey" by her domestics. "Dey done seed yo' come home, an' I'se jes' 'bliged ter show dem in."

Miss Metoaca considered for a moment. Nancy had confided her suspicions in regard to Mrs. Bennett to her aunt in February. Should she receive her now? She had called repeatedly since Nancy's arrest, but Miss Metoaca had always excused herself. This time she was inside the house, perhaps already spying around. Miss Metoaca came to a sudden resolution. "Tell the ladies I will be right down," she called to the waiting servant, and, true to her words, she joined them without further loss of time.

"My dear Miss Metoaca," began Mrs. Arnold pompously, but the look in the spinster's red eyes went straight to her heart, and she threw her arms impulsively about her in a warm embrace without completing her sentence.

"It is good of you to come," said Miss Metoaca, touched by Mrs. Arnold's greeting. "I—I—was feeling very downhearted."

"And no wonder," purred Mrs. Bennett, wiping her eyes with a dainty handkerchief. "You have borne a great deal, Miss Metoaca, and have our deepest sympathy."

"You crocodile," thought the spinster, as she said aloud: "It is cruel, cruel! Nancy never committed that crime, never."

Mrs. Arnold and her friend exchanged doubtful glances.

"Have you been allowed to see your niece?" inquired the latter, as Mrs. Arnold seemed at a loss for words.

"No; and I am convinced the food and clothes I send her never get past the inspector's office."

"Have you appealed to the President?"

"Have I?" Miss Metoaca's tone was eloquent. "I have tormented that poor man nearly to death."

"Did he give you no comfort?" asked Mrs. Arnold. "Usually President Lincoln is only too anxious to sign pardons."

"He doesn't seem to be in this instance," dryly. "He insists that an open trial will be the best thing for Nancy. 'Murder is evil,' he said; 'evil cannot stand discussion. The more the mystery is discussed the quicker you will discover clues leading to the murderer. What kills the skunk is the publicity it gives itself. What a skunk wants to do is to keep snug under the barn—in the daytime—when men are around with shotguns.'"

"Is Sam working for you now?" inquired Mrs. Arnold, after a slight pause.

"Sam!" echoed Miss Metoaca, her surprise causing her to raise her voice.

Seeing Mrs. Arnold was flurried by the apparent effect of her innocent remark on Miss Metoaca, Mrs. Bennett answered for her.

"My husband and I met Nancy conversing with the negro Sam, about six o'clock on the afternoon that Captain Lloyd—ah—died." Miss Metoaca was intently studying the speaker's face, but she could learn nothing from the innocent blue eyes raised so confidingly to hers. "Nancy told us then that Sam, who has often waited on me, was anxious to secure a place in a private family...."

"And so," broke in Mrs. Arnold, "as I am in need of another man-servant, I came to inquire about Sam."

"Now that is too bad," exclaimed Miss Metoaca, rallying her wits to her aid. "I wish I had known before that you needed a servant, Mrs. Arnold. Sam came to me and asked me to find him a place, so I sent him over to my cousin, Mrs. Hillen, in Baltimore, as she wanted a good butler." Her tranquil manner effectually covered a rapidly beating heart. How much did Mrs. Bennett know about Sam, and where had she gained her information?

"Great heavens! What is that?" exclaimed Mrs. Bennett, startled out of her usual calm as a long-drawn howl came from the back of the house.

"It's Misery. Poor dog! He is grieving his heart out for Nancy. I suspect Jonas has forgotten and shut him in the pantry." Miss Metoaca made a motion to rise.

"Sit still, dear." Mrs. Bennett detained her by a gesture. "I will go and release Misery." And before the perturbed spinster could stop her she had tripped gracefully out of the room.

"Here is Senator Warren," remarked Mrs. Arnold, catching sight of him through the window as he came up the steps; and Miss Metoaca, all else forgotten, hastened to the front door.

As Warren greeted her, the shrill voices of newsboys shouting "Extra!" "Extra!" sounded down the street, and, with a muttered word of apology, he waited on the steps until a newsboy saw his beckoning hand and rushed up with the paper. Miss Metoaca and Mrs. Arnold, who had joined her, read the flaring headlines over Warren's shoulder:

STIRRING NEWS FROM THE FRONT! LEE OVERWHELMED! GRANT CRUSHING HIM ON THE EAST!! SHERIDAN ON THE WEST!!!

Warren raised his hat reverently. "The end is in sight! Thank God! Thank God!"

"Oh, I do thank God! This cruel war!" Miss Metoaca choked, and turned to Mrs. Arnold, who was weeping softly. "Let us go inside." And she led the way into the hall, where Warren detained her.

"I only came to tell you that the military commission meets day after to-morrow, the tenth, to try Nancy."

Miss Metoaca drew a long breath. "Anything is better than this suspense."

Warren nodded understandingly. "I am to see Nancy to-morrow. The judge advocate has furnished me with a copy of the charges. Did Ward allow you to talk with Goddard?"

"No."

"How strange!" exclaimed Mrs. Bennett, who had rejoined them, dropping the extra which she and Mrs. Arnold were busy reading. "I hear the major is almost well again. Do you know," warming to the subject, "I consider Doctor Ward is acting very mysteriously in regard to Major Goddard's condition."

"Indeed? In what way, Mrs. Bennett?" Warren pricked up his ears.

"By his persistent refusals to let anyone into Major Goddard's sick room. And I am not the only one who thinks so." She paused impressively, then went on: "Colonel Baker told me that he was convinced the last time he talked with Major Goddard that he had regained his sight."

"Is that so?" Warren looked his disbelief. "I will inquire into it. Good night, Miss Metoaca; I must be running along."

"And we have to go, too," declared Mrs. Arnold. "Don't be discouraged, dear Miss Metoaca." And she gave the spinster an encouraging pat on her shoulder.

"Don't allow your mind to dwell too much on your worries," advised Mrs. Bennett soothingly, as she followed the senator down the steps.

Miss Metoaca nodded a smiling farewell, but when the door was safely shut the smile faded, and instead her face looked pinched and drawn. Deep in thought she hastened to the morning room, which was back of the dining room, and sat down at her desk to scribble a line to her cousin, Mrs. Hillen.

To a casual eye the desk was as she had left it two hours before. But Miss Metoaca had a well-developed bump of order, the terror of her servants, and nothing escaped her eagle eye. One glance showed her the desk ornaments had been moved. Dropping her pen, Miss Metoaca opened several of the drawers. One look was enough to show her that their contents had been disturbed. Every paper was tossed and tumbled.

Feverishly Miss Metoaca went through the remaining drawers. Apparently nothing had been removed. Just as she was drawing a long breath of relief, her hand touched a note book concealed under a mass of papers at the back of the bottom drawer. Pulling it out, Miss Metoaca found that the book was one used by Nancy to keep the marketing accounts and other memoranda. She turned the pages hastily—five sheets had been torn out! The book fell unheeded on the floor, as Miss Metoaca bowed her head in her trembling hands.



CHAPTER XXI

THE TRIAL

On the morning of the tenth, Senator Warren had difficulty in reaching the office building on Fourteenth Street, where Nancy's trial was to be held. The official news of Lee's surrender had just been received at the Capitol, and the streets were jammed with excited, cheering crowds. Despite the drizzling rain, groups of citizens paraded, singing "Old Hundred" with more fervor than harmony, and military bands added their din to the confusion. As far as the eye could see, flags and gay bunting waved from every public building and residence.

As Warren pushed his way through a crowd of negroes, who were almost delirious with joy, he heard the boom of the distant guns in the fortifications about Washington firing the two hundred salutes ordered by Secretary Stanton. On entering the long room assigned for the use of the court, he found the members of the military commission had assembled. Warren already knew Colonel Andrews, who, by the seniority of his rank, was the president of the commission, and they exchanged a few words of greeting. The colonel beckoned to a tall, bearded officer standing by the door to approach.

"Senator Warren, let me introduce Captain Foster, the judge advocate."

The two men examined each other covertly and with keen interest; they both realized the gravity of the struggle before them—a young girl's life hung in the balance—as they gravely shook hands.

"If you are ready, Mr. Senator, we will call the court to order, as we are already very late, having been detained by the celebration of Lee's surrender," said Foster courteously. "The necessary witnesses are in the next room, and the sergeant tells me the prisoner is downstairs under guard."

At that moment a young man came into the room, and, seeing Warren, strode over to him.

"Good morning, Dwight," said the senator. "Colonel Andrews—Captain Foster—this is my colleague, Mr. Dwight, a member of the Washington Bar, who will assist me in my defence of Miss Newton. I am quite ready to commence at once, Captain Foster."

In the meantime the seats provided for the spectators in the back of the room were being rapidly filled. Both Miss Metoaca and Nancy were very popular in Washington society, and all their friends and relatives who could procure cards of admission from the authorities had arrived early so as not to miss any of the proceedings.

A long table with writing materials on it had been provided for the use of the members of the court, and a smaller one for Nancy and her counsel was placed near it. Facing the two tables was a chair for the witnesses, and beyond that another small table for the use of the reporters.

The officers, who wore their full-dress uniforms and side arms, were soon seated about the table, with the presiding officer, Colonel Andrews, at the head, and the judge advocate, Captain Foster, in undress uniform, facing him at the foot. At a signal from the judge advocate, one of the orderlies in attendance stepped to the door and spoke to the sentry.

In a few minutes, Nancy was ushered into the room by the provost sergeant of the guard. Warren rose instantly, and escorted her to her seat, and his eyes flashed in admiration of her poise and beauty.

Tranquilly and with dignity, she returned the salutes of the officers; if she had been receiving them in her own drawing-room, her manner could not have been more composed.

Mrs. Warren, who sat between Mrs. Arnold and Mrs. Bennett, noticed with pitying heart the deep shadows under Nancy's eyes and the hollows in her white cheeks. She bent forward, and impulsively kissed her hand to Nancy when the latter looked wistfully at her, and was promptly rebuked by the presiding officer. Nancy had hoped that her aunt would be present, but Warren had decided to call Miss Metoaca as one of the witnesses for the defence, and therefore she could not attend the hearings.

The judge advocate rapped for order; then rose and signed to Nancy to do likewise as he read from a paper in his hand:

"Special Orders } War Department, No. 576 } Office of the Adjutant-General, } April 8th, 1865.

"4 ... A Military Commission is appointed to meet in the City of Washington, District of Columbia, at nine o'clock on Monday, April 10th, 1865, for the trial of Miss Nancy Newton.

"Detail for the Commission

"Colonel Andrews U.S. Volunteers Major Charles Lane U.S. Veterans Reserve Corps Captain John Taylor 1st Squadron Provisional Cavalry Lieutenant Joseph Clarke 1st Mass. Heavy Artillery Lieutenant Henry Wells 1st N.H. Heavy Artillery Lieutenant Harvey Slocum 3rd Mass. Heavy Artillery Lieutenant James Phillipse 2nd District Volunteer Cavalry Captain George Foster —th U.S. Infantry, Judge Advocate and Recorder.

"A greater number of officers cannot be assembled without manifest injury to the service at this time.

"By command of the President.

"E. D. TOWNSEND, Assistant Adjutant-General."

"Prisoner," the judge advocate turned and faced her directly, "do you object to being tried by any member of this commission?"

"No, sir," answered Nancy calmly.

The officers all rose and stood, while the judge advocate went through the long ceremony of swearing in the court and then the reporter. Colonel Andrews in turn administered the oath to the judge advocate. After the officers had resumed their seats there was a slight pause while the judge advocate searched among his papers. Finding what he wanted, he again faced Nancy, who had remained standing, and read in a voice that was clearly heard through the room:

"Charges and specifications against the prisoner, Miss Nancy Newton.

"Charge 1st.—Violation of the 82nd Article of War:

"Specification.—In this that the said Nancy Newton on or about the 23rd day of February, 1865, was found acting as a rebel spy in or near Winchester, Va., the Headquarters of the U.S. Middle Military Division, Major-General Sheridan commanding.

"GEORGE LLOYD, Captain, U.S. Secret Service, Officer Preferring Charges.

"Charge 2nd.—Murder in violation of the 58th Article of War:

"Specification.—In that the said Nancy Newton, being in fear of arrest within our lines as a spy by order of the said Captain Lloyd, who had secured proof of her guilt, did, feloniously and with malice aforethought, kill the said Captain Lloyd on Monday, the 6th day of March, 1865."

"Prisoner, what say you to these charges and specifications?"

"Not guilty, sir," Nancy answered, without a tremor, and she reseated herself by Warren's side.

Symonds was the first witness called. After he had been duly sworn, the judge advocate began his direct examination.

"Your name and occupation?"

"John Symonds, serving as United States Secret Service agent under Colonel Lafayette C. Baker."

"How long have you been in that service?"

"I have been with Colonel Baker ever since the Bureau was first established."

"Do you recognize the accused?"

"I do, sir." Symonds glanced hastily at Nancy, then averted his eyes.

"State under what circumstances you have known her?"

"Captain Lloyd, my superior officer, had reason to believe that Miss Newton was a rebel spy, and I was detailed to watch her movements."

"Do you know what first led Captain Lloyd to suspect the accused?"

"Yes, sir. On the twenty-seventh of December, 1864, I accompanied the captain to Poolesville. While on our way there we met a Federal cavalryman riding toward Washington, who said he carried despatches to Adjutant General Thomas. When Captain Lloyd demanded to see the despatch, the supposed trooper managed to make his escape, after first knocking the captain senseless from his horse. As he dashed up the road, his horse swerved toward the woods skirting the road, and a low-hanging branch knocked his hat off, and I discovered the rider was a woman."

A low murmur of surprise from the spectators interrupted Symonds, and the president rapped on the table with his sword hilt. "Those present must be silent," he announced, "or the room will be cleared."

"What led you to think the rider was a woman in disguise?" asked the judge advocate, after silence had been restored.

"By the long hair which fell down her back below her waist."

"You say she escaped. How did that happen?"

"Her horse was fresh, mine lame, and the captain's worn out. It was impossible for me to overtake her. I soon gave up the chase discouraged, and returned to Captain Lloyd, whom I found lying senseless where he had fallen. I rode to Poolesville, procured a horse and wagon, and brought Captain Lloyd back to this city. But before doing so I picked up the spy's hat, and on examining it found a number of hairs sticking to the inside. They were of a peculiar color." He glanced significantly at Nancy. "Captain Lloyd and I both agreed that they exactly matched Miss Newton's hair."

"Produce the hairs," ordered the judge advocate.

"I can't, sir," reluctantly. "I gave them to Captain Lloyd, and I don't know what he did with them."

The judge advocate, who had entered all questions and answers in the book before him, paused and gazed blankly at Symonds for a moment; then resumed his examination.

"When did you last see Captain Lloyd?"

"On the afternoon of Monday, the sixth of last March. He had just returned from Winchester."

"Did he speak of the accused?"

"He did, sir."

"In what way?"

"He told me," Symonds cleared his throat, and spoke impressively, "that he had absolute proof that Miss Newton was a rebel spy."

"Did he make that statement in the privacy of his room, or in the public hall?"

"In the hall, sir."

"In a voice that could be overheard?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did Captain Lloyd state what that proof was while you were in the hall?"

"No, sir; but he did tap his chest and said he had it there."

"Did you see anyone in the hall?"

"No, sir; the hall where we stood was empty except for the captain and myself."

"In your opinion, did Captain Lloyd speak loudly enough to be overheard by persons on the floors above or below where you were standing?"

Warren started to his feet. "I object to that question."

"Objection not sustained," ruled the president. "The question is relevant. Continue, Mr. Judge Advocate."

"Answer my last question, Symonds," directed the judge advocate.

"In my opinion, he could easily have been overheard," declared Symonds positively.

"When Captain Lloyd told you in the hall that he had absolute proof that the accused was a rebel spy, did he mention her by name?"

"No, sir."

"Did he speak of this spy in such a way that anyone would know to whom he alluded."

Symonds reflected for a moment. "No, sir; he did not," he answered finally.

"Did you go with Captain Lloyd into his sitting room?"

"Yes, sir."

"State to the court what occurred then."

"Captain Lloyd showed me a despatch which he had taken from the dead body of a rebel officer, Major George Pegram. The captain declared this despatch was given to Pegram by the accused; that she understood the Morse code, and had taken the message verbatim from the wire, having been in the telegraph office at the time it was received."

"Have you that despatch, Symonds?"

"No, sir. I handed it back to Captain Lloyd."

"What did he do with it?"

"He replaced it in his wallet, and put that in the inside pocket of his coat."

"Can you recollect the words of the despatch?"

"No, sir; I cannot. It was in cipher, and the words made no sense that I could understand; secondly, I only saw it for a second."

"Would you recognize the handwriting if you saw it again?"

"I think I would, sir," but Symonds looked dubious.

The judge advocate picked up several sheets of paper, apparently torn from a notebook, and handed them to the Secret Service agent.

"Did the writing of the despatch resemble any of these specimens of the prisoner's handwriting?" he asked.

Symonds studied the papers intently; then shook his head. "No, sir."

Mrs. Bennett, who had bent forward, the better to hear Symonds' answer, sank slowly back in her chair. The judge advocate's manifest surprise was reflected in her face. She paid no attention to his next question; her busy brain was occupied in planning to get instant word to Colonel Baker that, in her opinion, Symonds was deliberately lying to shield Nancy.

"State to the court as briefly as possible what occurred after you returned the despatch to Captain Lloyd," ordered the judge advocate.

"The captain told me to report to Colonel Baker that he possessed new evidence, which would hang Miss Newton. He said I was to explain to Colonel Baker that he had been five days in the saddle and was exhausted from lack of sleep, and that he was obliged to rest that afternoon, as he could not keep awake any longer, or words to that effect."

"One moment," interrupted the judge advocate. "Did all this conversation take place in Captain Lloyd's room, and was the hall door closed?"

Symonds considered a second before replying. "The door was closed during our interview in the room," he said thoughtfully, "but I distinctly recollect he told me, after I had stepped into the hall, that he was going to lie down and that I was to be sure and send for him when the accused was arrested because he 'would sleep like the dead.'"

Nancy stole an anxious glance at Warren's impassive face, for the effect of Symonds' testimony on the court was only too apparent; but the senator was staring steadily at the witness and paid no attention to his client. She sank back in her chair with a deep sigh.

"Do you think these last remarks of Captain Lloyd could have been overheard?"

"Yes, sir. The captain did not trouble to lower his voice."

"Did you obey the captain's orders, Symonds?"

"I did, sir. I met Colonel Baker on his return from Baltimore. After consulting with the Secretary of War, he sent me to tell Captain Lloyd to join him at the War Department."

"Describe what took place when you reached Captain Lloyd's room that night," directed the judge advocate; and Symonds gave a dramatic account of the discovery of Lloyd's dead body and Goddard's unconscious form. When he had finished, the judge advocate continued his questions.

"Were any chairs or tables overturned in the room, as if there had been a fight?"

"No, sir; not one."

"You say Captain Lloyd was apparently sleeping naturally in bed. Explain your meaning a little more clearly."

"Why, sir, he was lying there on his side covered by a bed quilt. Anyone would have thought, as I did, that he was still asleep."

"Did you send for a doctor?"

"I did, sir. Doctor Ward arrived a few moments before the provost marshal."

"Did you search for the important despatch?"

"I did, sir; but without finding a trace of either the pocketbook or the despatch."

"Where did you find the coat Captain Lloyd had worn that afternoon?"

"Hanging on the back of the chair by his bed."

"What did you do when the provost marshal arrived?"

"I turned the rooms over to him, left Doctor Ward in charge of Major Goddard, and hastened to the War Department to report to the Secretary of War."

The judge advocate walked over and conferred with Colonel Andrews; then turned back and addressed Warren courteously.

"I have finished, Mr. Senator. Do you wish to cross-examine the witness?"

Warren nodded in the affirmative, glanced over his notes, then handed a slip of paper to the judge advocate, who read the question aloud as he pasted it in the book in front of him.

"What proof have you, beyond Captain Lloyd's word, that he took that despatch from the dead confederate, Major Pegram?"

"None, sir," exclaimed Symonds, much astonished.

"Would you question a dead man's word, Mr. Senator?" inquired the judge advocate sharply.

"I would, sir," declared Warren firmly. He rose and faced Colonel Andrews. "I respectfully submit to this court that I seriously object to the introduction of hearsay evidence."

"And I contend, sir," exclaimed the judge advocate, "that Symonds' testimony is direct evidence. He saw the despatch in Captain Lloyd's hand."

"You are right there, sir," said Warren courteously. "But Symonds did not see Captain Lloyd take that despatch from the dead body of the Confederate. He believes that that paper was taken from Major Pegram only because Captain Lloyd told him so—and that, sir, is hearsay evidence. And I demand in justice to my client, whose life hangs in the balance, that hearsay evidence be not accepted in this trial."

Major Lane hastily scribbled a few lines, and handed the paper to the judge advocate, who immediately read the question aloud:

"What induces you to think, Mr. Senator, that Captain Lloyd, a man of integrity and standing, would manufacture evidence against the accused?"

"Because of his known animosity toward her," was the prompt reply, "in proof of which I have direct evidence to offer to this court."

The judge advocate, however, stuck to his argument, and a quick war of words followed, during which Colonel Andrews bent forward and consulted Major Lane in an undertone; then came the brief order: "Clear the court." Warren and the judge advocate ushered Nancy into a small vacant room, while the spectators were bundled unceremoniously into the hall.

The fresh air in the hall was a relief after the stuffy atmosphere of the courtroom. Mrs. Warren and her two friends pushed their way to the end window, opened it, and leaned out, the better to cool their flushed faces.

"I fear, I greatly fear, Nancy is very deeply involved in this mysterious tragedy," murmured Mrs. Bennett, so that she would not be overheard by others in the crowd.

"It looks that way," agreed Mrs. Warren sadly. "Still, I firmly believe in her innocence. If the court refuses hearsay evidence, they cannot then prove that Nancy had a motive for killing Captain Lloyd."

"My husband declares that a military court is the fairest and most impartial tribunal in the world," pursued Mrs. Bennett. "Hark! What is that music?" A band, preceding its regiment, had wheeled into Fourteenth Street, some blocks below, and was marching toward them. The strains of music, at first faint, grew louder in volume. "It is—yes—it is 'Dixie'!"

"It's the first time in four years that that tune has been heard in the nation's capital," declared Mrs. Warren excitedly.

"President Lincoln has just said we captured it along with Richmond, and that 'Dixie' is national to-day," laughed a staff officer, who had just entered the building. "Is the hearing over for this afternoon, ladies?"

"I wish it was," sighed Mrs. Arnold. "We dine at four, and...."

Her words were interrupted by the opening of the folding doors. The closed session was over. Nancy, accompanied by the judge advocate and her counsel, preceded the crowd back into the courtroom.

"The court in this instance, when so grave an issue is at stake, has decided not to accept hearsay evidence," announced the presiding officer, as soon as all noise in the room had ceased.

Warren drew a long breath of relief. "Then I demand that Symonds' testimony relating to the despatch be stricken from the records."

"Not so fast, Mr. Senator," sternly admonished the colonel. "It is possible to get direct evidence in regard to Captain Lloyd's capture of that despatch. You forget, sir, that he was accompanied by Belden, one of Colonel Young's scouts. Mr. Judge Advocate, you are directed by the court to telegraph to General Sheridan's headquarters, requesting that the said Belden be detached and sent back to Washington to testify before this court; or, if that is not possible, that his deposition in the matter be taken and forwarded to us. It is three o'clock, gentlemen; the court will adjourn until to-morrow morning."



CHAPTER XXII

WEAVING THE WEB

The court convened promptly at nine o'clock the next morning. The first witness summoned by the judge advocate was Doctor Ward. After the usual preliminaries had been gone through with, he testified that he had reached Mrs. Lane's boarding house five minutes after Symonds' message had been delivered to him. He was shown at once to Captain Lloyd's room.

"I hastily examined Captain Lloyd, and found there was no hope of resuscitating him. He had apparently been dead for some hours," continued the doctor, in answer to a question put by the judge advocate. "I then turned my attention to Major Goddard, who was still lying on the floor. There were two single beds in the room, and Symonds and I lifted the major on to his, after I had dressed his wound."

"Kindly describe Major Goddard's condition when you first examined him."

"Major Goddard lay with his head on the hearth. Apparently in falling he had struck the side of his head against the sharp edge of the iron fender. It had made a jagged cut, which bled profusely. The blow undoubtedly stunned him; but I think his long unconsciousness was due to the loss of blood caused by a hemorrhage from the nose."

"What do you think caused his fall?"

"Possibly vertigo. The hemorrhage points to that. Major Goddard was in a weakened condition before his fall from wounds received about the head from an explosion of an old-fashioned pistol some time in February, which had blinded him."

"Is Major Goddard totally blind?"

"At present he is, sir."

"Is there then a prospect of his regaining his sight?"

"It is just possible." Ward's eyes traveled in Nancy's direction. "I do not consider his case entirely hopeless." He smiled in sympathy, as her eyes lighted with pleasure.

The judge advocate paused to make an entry on his pad, then resumed his examination. "What did you do next, Doctor?"

"I sent a note to the United States Sanitary Commission, asking them to send me a nurse at once."

"Did the Secret Service agent, John Symonds, speak to you of a pocketbook or a despatch?"

"He did, sir. Said that they were both missing from Captain Lloyd's coat pocket. I helped him search the rooms for them, but could find no trace of either of them."

"What did you do after the arrival of the provost marshal?"

"I conferred with him about Captain Lloyd. Considering the mystery surrounding his sudden death, we both deemed it expedient to hold an autopsy at once; so his body was removed to the city morgue."

"Did you hold the said autopsy?"

"I did, sir, in the presence of the coroner and Surgeon McBride. Here is the report of the result." He searched among his papers, and handed one of the sheets to the judge advocate, who, before inserting it in his book, read its contents aloud:

"After a prolonged and careful examination we found no wound or mark of violence on Captain Lloyd's body; nor any trace of poison in his system. Therefore, we are obliged to believe, in the absence of any particular symptom or pathological appearance, that he died from some cause or causes to us unknown.

"It is just possible that the last five days in the saddle without sufficient food or sleep might have produced a paralysis of the heart which left no symptom.

"WILLIAM MCBRIDE, Surgeon, Kalorama Hospital. JAMES RICHARDS, M.D., Coroner, District of Columbia.

"March 7th, 1865."

"I see that you have not signed this report, Doctor," exclaimed the judge advocate, in surprise.

"I did not entirely agree with my colleagues," explained Doctor Ward. "I contend that the symptoms would be the same if Captain Lloyd had been suffocated by some anaesthetic such as chloroform."

"Did you detect any odor of chloroform about Captain Lloyd?"

"No. It evaporates quickly, and the room was well ventilated by currents of fresh night air from the open window."

"Did you find a bottle which might have contained chloroform anywhere in Captain Lloyd's apartment?"

"No, sir; but, then, I did not look for such a bottle until after the autopsy."

"Could it have been removed in the interval?"

"Possibly; but I hardly think it likely. The provost marshal had placed all the boarders and Mrs. Lane under arrest, and stationed a guard about the house. No one could enter the captain's two rooms, except," remembering Baker's intrusion, "the head of the Secret Service Bureau, and officers of the provost guard."

"I have no further questions to ask you now, Doctor. Mr. Senator, will you take the witness?"

Warren, who had followed Ward's testimony with the closest attention, tore off a sheet from his pad, and passed it over to the judge advocate to read aloud.

"Is it not possible that Captain Lloyd died from apoplexy, Doctor?"

"No, Mr. Senator. I examined the brain, and found no indication of apoplexy, although there was a slight, very slight congestion noticeable at the base of the brain."

Warren quickly wrote another question, and handed it to the judge advocate, who was busy entering his first question and its answer in his record.

"Symonds testified yesterday that Captain Lloyd lay in bed as if asleep. If he had been suffocated, would not convulsions have ensued?"

"Some muscular contractions," admitted Ward, "but not enough to throw off the heavy quilt which Symonds told me covered his body when he first approached Captain Lloyd."

Again Warren wrote another question, which the judge advocate read aloud after a moment's pause.

"Are you willing to swear, Doctor Ward, that Captain Lloyd could not possibly have died from natural causes?"

"Natural causes?" echoed the doctor. "I don't catch your meaning, Mr. Senator. A man's natural state is living. It is unnatural for him to die."

Quickly Warren's hand traveled over the paper; then he tossed the slip to the judge advocate.

"I will amend my question," read the latter. "Do you think it possible that the captain died from one of the diseases of nature, such as heart failure, and so on?"

"No, Mr. Senator, I do not," declared Ward positively. "I am willing to go on oath that Captain Lloyd was killed by a person or persons unknown."

Warren reddened, and bit his lip. "I have no further questions to ask," he said abruptly.

"Does the court desire to examine this witness?" inquired the judge advocate. The president replied in the negative, and Ward was then excused. The next witness was Coroner Richards, who stated that, in his opinion, Captain Lloyd might have died from an attack of heart failure superinduced by the fatigue of five days in the saddle with insufficient food or sleep. His testimony was corroborated by Surgeon McBride. Warren refused to cross-examine the surgeon, and he was excused. He was followed on the stand by Mrs. Lane, a tall, raw-boned woman of middle age.

"How long have you kept your boarding house on F Street?" asked the judge advocate, after Mrs. Lane had been duly sworn and had answered the usual questions as to her full name, age, and length of residence in Washington.

"Six years," was the brief reply. Mrs. Lane never wasted words, if she could help it.

"For how long a time had Captain Lloyd boarded with you?"

"He took the rooms with me the middle of last December, but did not spend much of his time in Washington."

"Was he a good tenant?"

"Yes, sir," with more enthusiasm. "He was quiet, never found fault, and always paid promptly."

"Do you usually supply your boarders with sitting room and bedroom?"

"Oh, no. Captain Lloyd told me he desired privacy; and, as he offered me fair payment for the two bedrooms, I moved the bed and bureau out of the front room and put them in Captain Lloyd's own bedroom, because he often had men stay nights with him. I fixed up the front room as a sitting room. He had his meals served there whenever he came back in time for them; he wasn't very regular about returning for them, and spent most of his days out of the house."

"When did Major Goddard first come to visit his friend, Captain Lloyd?"

"About the last of January. Captain Lloyd sent for me and asked me to get the extra bed ready, which I did," she supplemented.

"Did you ever hear Captain Lloyd and Major Goddard quarreling?"

"No, sir; I never did."

"Did they seem to be on good terms all the time, Mrs. Lane?" with emphasis.

"Yes. They were the best of friends. Several of my boarders spoke to me of it. Captain Lloyd was so stand-offish and morose that they could not understand Major Goddard's affection for him."

"Was Captain Lloyd on good terms with your other boarders?"

"I believe he was. I never heard otherwise, but he did not see much of anyone in the house."

"Did he receive many visitors?"

"No, sir; only members of the Secret Service, or army officers."

"When did you last see Captain Lloyd alive?"

"On the afternoon of March sixth. I did not know he had returned to town until he sent word by my cook that he would like a cold lunch."

"Why did he send that message by the cook?"

"Because I had discharged my two worthless maids that afternoon, and the new ones I had engaged hadn't come. The cook was the only servant I had in the house that afternoon."

"Did your cook carry Captain Lloyd's lunch up to him?"

"No, I did. The cook only let him in when he returned."

"Did Captain Lloyd look ill when you saw him that afternoon?"

"No, indeed; only very tired. He told me he was half dead for want of sleep and could hardly keep his eyes open."

"Was Major Goddard with him?"

"No, sir. Major Goddard had gone out driving before Captain Lloyd returned."

"Did you let Major Goddard in when he got back from his drive?"

"No, sir. Captain Lloyd had given his latch key to the major before the latter left Winchester. So the attendant who accompanied Major Goddard used the latch key and they let themselves in that afternoon."

"Is it your custom to give latch keys to your boarders?"

"I don't do it usually, sir; but Captain Lloyd was in and out of the house at all hours."

"Did you hear any unusual noise in Captain Lloyd's room that afternoon or night?"

"No, sir, I did not. As I said before, the cook was the only servant in the house, and I had to help her in the kitchen."

"Do you know the accused?"

"I do, sir."

"When did you last see her and where?"

"I saw her on the afternoon of the sixth of March when she came to my house to see her friend, Miss Alice Cary."

Her words created a small sensation, and the President had to rap repeatedly for order before quiet was restored. Nancy had told Warren in their interview on Sunday that she had been to the boarding-house, so he was prepared for the testimony, and no one could read from his expressionless face what he thought of the new development.

"Did the accused see you?" asked the judge advocate.

"She did," retorted Mrs. Lane. "I let her in."

"Did she go into your parlor?"

"No, sir. She came just as dinner was being served. I told her that Miss Cary was out, but that she had left word she would be back by half-past five. Miss Newton seemed very anxious to see Miss Cary, so I told her to go right to her friend's room and wait there."

"Where is Miss Cary's room located?"

"On the third floor, back."

"Wasn't it unusual to send her upstairs instead of having her wait in the parlor?"

"No, indeed. She and Miss Cary are very intimate, and they often spend the day together, either at my house or at Miss Metoaca Newton's."

"Did the accused have a bundle with her?"

"She did."

"Was it a bottle?" eagerly. The court and spectators leaned forward to catch the reply.

"I couldn't tell, sir. It seemed to be a box of candy."

"What made you think that?"

"The way her dog kept smelling at it, and then it was shaped like a box."

"Did the dog accompany the accused into the house?"

"He did. I don't mind Misery. He's a good dog, as dogs go, and doesn't give me any trouble."

"Have you any questions to ask the witness, Mr. Senator?"

For reply Warren handed a sheet of paper to the judge advocate who read the two questions written on it slowly and one at a time.

"What did Captain Lloyd eat for lunch?"

"Let me see?" Mrs. Lane considered for a moment. "Cold bread, ham, pickles, and ginger bread—oh, and a cup of coffee."

"Did Captain Lloyd eat very heartily?"

"Well, he ate every scrap I sent up. Aunt Dinah brought the tray down stairs with her when she came back from telling the captain that Symonds wished to see him. There wasn't a morsel of food left on the plates."

"That is all," announced Warren; and at a signal from the judge advocate, Mrs. Lane left her chair and hastened out of the room.

Mrs. Warren, who had come with Mrs. Bennett, was sick at heart. It was obvious to all that her husband was fighting against heavy odds. A whisper here, a look there, showed that every spectator in the room thought Nancy guilty.

Mrs. Lane's place was taken by Mrs. Lewis, a frail, old lady whose timorous voice could hardly be heard as the judge advocate administered the oath to her.

"Now, Mrs. Lewis, will you please speak louder in answering my questions?" requested the judge advocate. "Do you board at Mrs. Lane's?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where is your room?"

"On the third floor, front."

"Do you know the accused?"

"I do." Mrs. Lewis wiped her eyes; she was easily moved to tears.

"When did you last see her, and where?"

"On the sixth of March, last——"

"Go on, madam," urged the judge advocate, as her voice died away.

"I finished my dinner—I did not stay for dessert—and went upstairs to my room. I stopped a moment when I reached the second floor to rest—my breath is short these days—and I saw Miss Newton coming toward me from the back hall——"

"Well, what then?" impatiently.

"I—I—know her aunt very well, and Nancy stopped to ask how I was."

"Did she state what she was doing there?"

"Yes, sir. She told me she was waiting for Alice Cary, and had run down the back stairs to look for her dog, Misery, who she thought had probably sneaked down to the kitchen. We went upstairs together, and I went on to my room alone."

"Did the accused find her dog?"

"I reckon she did, though he wasn't in the hall then, because shortly after she rapped at my door to ask me to tell Alice Cary she couldn't wait any longer for her, and Misery came into my room while we were talking."

The judge advocate cleared his throat, and spoke impressively.

"Did the accused have a bottle and a pocket book in her hands?"

"I—I—can't say positively," stammered Mrs. Lewis, doubtfully. "It—it was dark in the hall, and I am quite near-sighted."

"How was the accused dressed when you saw her the first time?"

"She had on her hat, but no coat. The last time I saw her she was dressed for the street."

"Did you notice anything unusual about the accused when you met her in the hall?"

"She looked excited and frightened, and very pale."

The judge advocate smiled with satisfaction; he was piling up damaging facts against Nancy. He signed to Warren to cross-examine the witness; but his smile changed to a frown when he read Warren's first question.

"Will you kindly explain to this court how you could see in a dark hall that Miss Newton 'looked excited and frightened, and very pale,' when you have just testified that you are too near-sighted to have seen so large an object as a bottle or a pocket-book in Miss Newton's hands?"

"I do-don't understand?" quavered Mrs. Lewis. The judge advocate repeated the question with more emphasis.

"I guess I just thought she looked excited and frightened," admitted the confused old lady reluctantly.

"That is all," exclaimed Warren, and Mrs. Lewis left the chair dissolved in tears.



CHAPTER XXIII

SENSATIONAL EVIDENCE

Turning quickly, the judge advocate gave an order in an undertone to an attendant, who saluted and then followed Mrs. Lewis out into the hall. Warren leaned forward and spoke an encouraging word to Nancy; then settled back in his chair and fidgeted uneasily with his papers. He glanced covertly at her. Surely her frank, fearless eyes, her unruffled demeanor, hid no criminal act; and yet.... Angry with himself for permitting a doubt, he pulled out his watch and glanced at its face. A quarter of two....

At that moment the attendant reentered the room, and delivered a message to the judge advocate, who rose and announced that the next witness called to the stand was Major Robert Goddard. All eyes were turned to the entrance as the folding doors opened and Goddard stepped into the room, leaning on his attendant's arm.

Wasted by his illness, Goddard's uniform hung loosely on him. He looked so changed, so pallid and worn, that Nancy dug her nails into her flesh to keep from crying. The attendant quickly guided him to the witness chair, then retired to the back of the room as the judge advocate stepped forward to administer the oath.

When the ceremony was over, Goddard sat down, and, leaning on his sword hilt, turned his head slowly, as if, not seeing, he were trying to locate by ear some familiar presence. Warren read his meaning, and in pity leaned forward and addressed Nancy by name. As her clear voice answered, Goddard turned instantly in her direction, and a quick bright smile lighted his wan face. Nancy half rose, but Warren's detaining hand checked her; and suddenly realizing that she was watched by dozens of curious eyes, she blushed hotly. Her confusion was noticed by the judge advocate, who smiled grimly to himself.