Being only an enlisted man, I was quartered with the "non-coms" around headquarters, my immediate chum being the Hospital Steward.

As soon as I was wide enough awake to realize the situation and understand the summons, I knew well enough what it meant, but feigned wonder and surprise, and, hastily dressing myself, rushed through the dark yard to the house before any one could question me.

There were the usual sentries around headquarters, but my man got through them quickly, and we entered the house through the big hallway.

There was but one light burning there, as every one of the numerous Staff had gone off to sleep. The Orderly gently knocked at the door as if he were afraid some one might hear. A quiet voice said, "Come"; the Orderly opened the door, put on his "Regular" face, jerked himself in sideways, stiffened up, saluted, and reported that he had "fetched the man he was ordered to."

"All right; 'fetch' him a little more, Sergeant, till I see him," were the exact words the General uttered in reply, in his pleasant way.

Without waiting for any further introduction from my escort, I brushed my bangs down, wiped off my chin, and stepped inside of the door, saluting the General according to the regulations. The General dismissed the Orderly with a pleasant "Ah, here he is; that will do Orderly."

Turning to me, with the pen he pointed to a chair, saying: "I wanted to see you, and it seems as if the only opportunity I have is after everybody else has left me. Take a seat till I finish this note."

After expressing my readiness to wait upon him at any hour, I sat down as directed, and for the time being I was alone with the Commander-in-Chief of the Army of the Potomac.

If I were permitted to live a thousand years, that lapse of time would not efface from my memory the impressions that this singular midnight interview with General Burnside has left upon my mind.

Previous to my reporting, the General had probably been engaged with his private correspondence, and was at that moment very intent in an awkward effort at steering his pen over a sheet of paper. The General, like all other great soldiers, was a poor penman. It made me nervous watching him scratch over the paper, so that I felt like volunteering my services as an amanuensis to help him out of his labor, though I am a poor penman myself--which, by the way, is the only claim that I have for comparison with great men.

Almost everybody is familiar with the broad, honest, generous face of Burnside, with his English side-whiskers--"Burnsides"; but, like most pictures, it fails entirely to show him with his face lighted up by his happy, encouraging smile.

Though there were upward of a hundred thousand soldiers sleeping on that cold, inhospitable ground in this darkness, all was as quiet in the Army of the Potomac along the Rappahannock at that hour as if it were a great national cemetery containing a hundred thousand quiet graves. As I sat there and watched the General's features as he continued to write, the thought occurred to my mind that this one man could, by a word, call into active life every one of those around, not only on this, but on the other side of the river.

Right over the little Rappahannock River, on every one of the hills that were in the background, we knew well enough was another sleeping army; but their dreary winter camps were enlivened somewhat by their hundreds of cheerful camp-fires, the light from which seemed to flicker in our faces a happy sort of defiance at our wretched darkness. All along the river front, almost within gunshot of our headquarters, was stretched a line of camp-fires at such regular intervals that the scene resembled the lights of lamps on a long, winding street. They were allowed camp-fires on their picket-lines. We were prohibited from lighting a match at the front.

After the General had finished his task of writing and sealing the note, he rose from his chair, threw up both arms, as if to stretch himself out of a cramp, as he walked toward me, saying, abruptly: "It seems to me, young man, that you are in a position that will enable you to do us great service."

When I made a move to get on my feet to assume the soldier's first position of attention, the General motioned me back into my chair, with a command to: "Sit still; I want to stretch my legs a little while I talk this matter over," and he halted in front of me as he put the question: "Do you think you can get to the other side in safety to yourself?"

I assured him that I had no doubt of that whatever, and went on to explain that my recent relations with the people there would serve to protect me, but that I must not go in the uniform of a Federal soldier.

"Are you sure that your friends over there have not heard of your being in the army?"

I thought not--indeed, I was sure they had not--as some of my best friends in the North were not aware of the step, because I had not joined with any of the State troops, but had united with the Regulars, where I had become lost, as it were, among strangers.

During this examination I had assumed that, as a matter of course, my proposition to submerge the cable was in the General's mind. I had spent some time and considerable labor in the interval in carefully preparing a section of the soft rubber or insulated wire for this use. Sufficient length had been carefully selected and tested with the electrical batteries, and then I had put the whole Quartermaster's Department in a stew by a requisition, approved by headquarters, for some linseed oil, which was something that was not in the regulation list. I wanted to use the oil as additional coating to the rubber, as a better protection in the water. After much red-tape business, I got some oil, and put my coil of selected wire into the barrel for a good soaking.

When I began to tell the General about this additional security, he interrupted me: "Oh, never mind about that now. I fully appreciate your ingenuity, and believe that some such plan might become practicable hereafter, but (with an impressiveness that I shall never forget) we know pretty well the extent and disposition of the enemy's forces over there."

With a deep sigh he hesitated a moment, as if recalling his recent battle, that had so terribly demonstrated this fact.

"The Government was deceived to a great extent by Scouts; what I now desire is to deceive the Rebels."

I didn't "catch on," which the General probably discovered by his intent look into my eye.

"We must deceive them the next time; and if you are willing to take the risk on yourself of going into their lines, you can no doubt aid us very much better than by taking the wire along with you."

I expressed so decided a willingness to do anything, that the General smilingly said: "I see that you will do; and, as you have explained, it will be no great risk to you personally, I am satisfied to have you make the attempt." After a few more words of friendly caution, the General said, finally: "It will be better that you should make the crossing either above or below, and come up into the city. A few signals may be arranged beforehand with some of the Signal officers, which you can, no doubt, perfect yourself better than I."

I assured him that this could be easily done, and with a word or two more of caution and a suggestion to arrange my signals, and when I was ready to go to report to him, the General bade me "Good-night."

I left General Burnside's office that night without any very clear understanding of what he wanted me to do. I was only sure that I was expected to go over into the town for a purpose which he had not yet explained. This was sufficient for me. I went off in the dark to find my blanket, my head swimming with delight at the prospect of personally serving the General of the Army and the Government in a way that would at once secure advancement for me; but, best of all, I should at the same time be able to see Geno; and perhaps the fortune of war would be so altered by another move as to enable me to escort her and the Wells family away from the ill-fated old town.

But I shall leave the romantic portion--the love story--out of this narrative of fact. Perhaps some person better able than myself may in the future weave a romance from these plain statements of facts that I have somewhat reluctantly been putting down from time to time, in the midst of the bustle and confusion of my later-day work of a newspaper correspondent at Washington, yet scouting around among Rebels for news.

I found my blanket undisturbed during my absence. It had served as a sort of claim to that part of the floor in the large room over which were scattered a half-dozen sleeping men. One of the boys was wide enough awake to begin questioning me in regard to the nature of my business with the "old man"--the General was always the "old man," you know. In anticipation of this, and remembering a word of caution from the General, I had fixed up in my own mind a plan to put them on the wrong track. I explained--very confidentially, of course, knowing very well that it would get out the better and be believed if in that form--that I was to be questioned about the material necessary to build a telegraph line up to Washington on our side of the river.

It will be remembered that there was no direct communication with Washington by land from the army at Fredericksburg. Ostensibly, the Union forces occupied that portion of the territory, but, practically, the Rebel residenters, bushwhackers and guerrillas, assisted by Stuart's cavalry, infested the entire region between Alexandria or Manassas and Fredericksburg. Occasionally our cavalry were up in that region about some of the upper fords of the Rappahannock, but it was to all intents and purposes the enemy's country.

It was expected that I would convey some false or misleading information as coming from our forces to the Rebel officers. In a word, I was to become a decoy-duck.

While lying there all alone thinking this over carefully, and the exuberance of my feelings over a personal and pleasant interview with the General had subsided, I began to realize the dangerous position in which I might be placed.

The character of the decoy messages, and the manner of conveying them, the General had discreetly kept from me until the time for action. I was satisfied that I could easily get through to the Rebel headquarters and perhaps see General Lee personally. My "sympathizer"--Old Capitol story--would, no doubt, take well, especially in Fredericksburg.

The first danger that I should encounter would be a chance recognition of my "former services," but this was only equal to about one in a thousand. The only matter that I feared at all was going into the Rebel headquarters as the bearer of any important papers; they might, notwithstanding my friends in Fredericksburg, become suspicious and, perhaps, be induced to keep a watch over me as a sort of hostage for their fulfillment. If the intelligence I had taken to them had misled and caused disaster to their army, I would have to suffer.

The only way to circumvent this was to get out of the way before it was too late. Geno was over on that side, and the prospect of once more seeing her settled in my young impulsive heart the question. I determined that I would go, and go, too, as soon as possible; and with this thought fixed in my mind, I at last went off into a sound sleep, to dream of the happy hour when I should again take her hand in mine and tell her of the difficulties and the dangers I had met and so persistently overcome, that I might once more enjoy the happiness of being near her.

All the different headquarters were in direct communication with each other and the General Headquarters, as well as the Signal Station, from their points of observation, by means of this wire signal telegraph, which I have described.

This field telegraph was operated on the "induction" principle, which is the basis of the telephone patent. In the field telegraph, instead of vibrations, the induced current causes the deflection of a sensitive needle, which noisily points to letters of the alphabet on a dial synchronously with the transmitting apparatus.

Compared with the Morse system, it was a little tedious, and, at times, as uncertain as a telephone. It had the advantage, however, of simplicity. We called these "coffee-mill telegraphs." Since the war the "coffee-mill," or English system, has been greatly improved--the same principle operating the Atlantic cables. Instead of a needle revolving on the face of a dial, it is made by a wave of electricity, to simply dip or deflect, as desired, either to the right or the left of a zero point.

In this way the two simplest of all known characters are formed; _i. e._, the "dot" and the "dash" of the American Morse system.

This principle has an important bearing, not only in the action of this narrative, but it is the basis of a system of signals first applied to use in war by myself, as developing the practicability of signaling from even the inside of an enemy's line into headquarters of his opponent.

Since our war developed its uses, it has been adopted by nearly all the Governments of the earth.

It was designed by myself that, instead of being burdened by the attempt to lay a cable under the water and concealed in the earth, through which it was hoped to signal, that I should go over to Fredericksburg and, once safely in Geno's home, I could, by visual signals, communicate directly with an accomplished signal officer to be located at the Lacey House.

This was entirely practicable. Captain Wells' house was barely discernable from the Lacey House. I was to take a position at a certain window in the Wells' House and, when alone, signal directly over the water and through the air to a window in the Lacey House, by the simple use of this dot and dash system.

Those who have seen the signal-flags and torches will remember that there were but two simple motions, one to the left and the other to the right of a perpendicular--the stroke down, or in front, merely signifies a stop--the dot (or No. 2) is represented by a quick motion _to the right_; a dash (or No. 1) by a motion to the left of a sender.

At the end of each word, abbreviation, conventional or prearranged signal, a "front" motion is made.

I put in the cold days and long nights in studying up signals and in arranging with my "pard" for their exchange. He entered heartily into the scheme, believing, as we all did, that I, of all others, was just the person to undertake the business, because I would be recognized as a Rebel in that town.

From an up-stairs window of the Lacey House we discovered that two windows of Captain Wells' house were plainly visible. There was also a single "dormer" window in the roof, which the bombardment had seriously damaged.

These up-stairs windows were visible over the top of another house that stood between it and the river.

There was no other point on our side of the river from which signals could be quietly made that would not attract the attention of the watchful Rebels. Even from an obscure window of the Lacey House we feared it would be risky to attempt any demonstration in the way of signals. It was on this account settled upon that very few, if any, signals should be made to me.

There would be only some common recognition of my presence. We arranged that when one shutter of the Lacey House window was open it would signify to me in the Rebel lines that my man had his telescope leveled at my window, of which I was to open one shutter to signify my presence in that room.

Now, the telescopes used in the United States Signal Service were of the very best character. It will seem to many to be an exaggerated statement when I assert that I have distinctly and clearly read flag-signals a distance of twenty-five miles, and these at the rate of fifteen to twenty words a minute, too. At night torch-signals may be distinctly read by this method. It is only necessary that the exact point or bearings of the distant signal station be known. For this purpose a first-class pocket compass was furnished each signal officer.

In this case it was not necessary to see the compass to find the window, but we located with the telescope and compass certain other points miles to the rear of Marye's Heights and the Rebel Army, which I was to find in case the window was not available.