Curtis nodded, and he proceeded: "Well, he knew me, and consequently he knew you were all right. Had you come alone, that door would have been closed, and would not have opened, had you tried it. Now," he said, "I will call him here and introduce you."

Touching a small bell that stood on the table, the gentleman, to whom he had alluded, instantly answered its summons and crossed the room to where they were sitting.

"Mr. Wallace," said Leroy, "this is my friend and partner, Mr. Curtis."

The two men bowed and shook hands, and Wallace seating himself proved to be a pleasant and well-informed gentleman.

In the course of the conversation, Leroy asked, "What is the latest news from the front, Mr. Wallace?"

"We have nothing as yet to-day," he answered, "but yesterday it was reported that McClellan had laid siege to Yorktown; the chances are, that we shall hear of a battle, in a few days at farthest." During the interview, Curtis learned also, that the persons operating for this bureau had confederates, both at Baltimore and at Washington; these, he determined to discover, if possible, in addition to the information already gained.

To this end, he made himself very agreeable to Mr. Wallace, and in the course of the conversation, expressed his willingness to do what he could in aiding the force, and remarked that he should be pa.s.sing back and forth, between Washington and Richmond, and could doubtless be of service.

Mr. Wallace thanked him heartily, and gave him a small plain badge of peculiar shape, that would at any time, if shown, admit him to the headquarters, and then taking him about the room, he introduced him to the gentlemen present, and after a short conversation with his new friends, he in company with Leroy took his departure, and together they went down to dinner.

That evening, as he was sitting in the bar-room of the hotel, one of the men he had met up-stairs in the forenoon, came to him and told him that in a day or two, he was to start for Yorktown with important dispatches for General Magruder, but that owing, to sickness in his family, he did not want to leave home, unless it was impossible for him to get some one he could trust to undertake the task for him.

He then asked Curtis if he would object to making the trip for him. The detective thought a moment, and told him he would give him an answer in the morning. The two men then indulged in a friendly gla.s.s, after which they separated. The man had no sooner gone, than Curtis made up his mind to take the dispatches, not to General Magruder, but to me at Washington.

Accordingly, the next morning he informed his friend he would undertake the task for him, as he intended returning to Baltimore at any rate.

The next morning found him, with the dispatches carefully secreted about his person, at the depot, ready to take the first train for Petersburgh.

Here he arrived about noon, and proceeded to call on General Hill. After procuring his dinner at the hotel, he ordered his horse and started on his long ride for the Union camp, where he delivered his dispatches to Mr. Bangs, the superintendent of my headquarters in the field, and forwarded copies of the same to me at Washington, together with a full account of his trip and information he had gained; not forgetting a full statement of his discovery of the "Subterranean Headquarters," and his enlistment as a member of its force of spies and agents, employed in transmitting intelligence of the movements and plans of the Union troops.

CHAPTER XXIX.

_A Virginia Home.--Unwelcome Visitors.--Mr. Harcourt Arrested and Released.--Dan McCowan Makes Forcible Love to Mary Harcourt.--The Girl in Peril.--A Timely Rescue.--The Villain Punished._

The important information brought to my notice by Operative Curtis, on his return from Richmond, concerning the character and working of the "Subterranean Headquarters," at once determined me on a plan of using the same body of men, or rather the information they carried, for the benefit of the Union forces, instead of allowing them to use it in the interests of the Confederates. To accomplish this, I detailed several members of my force, both at Washington and Baltimore, to co-operate with Curtis, whom I intended now should become an active agent of the rebels in carrying dispatches to and from Richmond. The plan was, in short, that all dispatches entrusted to him should be accurately copied, the copies to be delivered to his confederates, and the originals forwarded to their destination.

In war, as in a game of chess, if you know the moves of your adversary in advance, it is then an easy matter to shape your own plans, and make your moves accordingly, and, of course, always to your own decided advantage. So in this case, I concluded that if the information intended for the rebels could first be had by us, after that, they were welcome to all the benefit they might derive from them.

In a few days, then, having completed my arrangements, Curtis started to Richmond, by the way of Wilson's Landing and Glendale, he having decided that, provided as he was with his pa.s.s from the Secretary, it would be perfectly safe, and at the same time a much shorter route than by the way of Petersburgh.

Leaving him for the present, then, to make his way to Richmond as best he can, we will turn our attention to other persons and to other scenes.

The interior of a comfortable farm-house, the place, and early evening the time.

The family are gathered around the tea-table, and are discussing earnestly the war, and the chances of the success of the Northern troops. The family consisted of five persons: the husband and wife, both traveling down the western slope of life, a young and beautiful daughter, apparently about twenty years of age, and two younger children, a boy and girl, aged, respectively, fourteen and twelve years.

These latter are listening attentively to the conversation going on about them, and anon interjecting some childish observation, or asking some question commensurate with the quaint views and ideas of childish years.

"Well," finally observed the old gentleman, "it is hard that one dare not speak their own sentiments in a country like this; my grandfather fought in the revolution, my father in the war of 1812, and I, myself, took a hand in the brush with Mexico; but I never dreamed of seeing the day when a man dared not speak his honest convictions, for fear of having his roof burnt from over his head, and, worse than all, endanger even his own life, and those dearest to him."

"I have always told you, William," replied his good wife, "that the day would come when this fearful curse of slavery would have to be wiped out in blood, and you all know now that I prophesied truly. And," she added, "as for me, I have no fears for the result. _Our_ only mistake has been in casting our lot and settling in the South, and in the very presence of an evil we could not avert."

"True, mother," rejoined her husband, "but you know I have ever been outspoken against slavery, and its attendant curses. I also flatter myself that I have had some influence in mitigating, at least, the condition of not a few of the black race. You remember Colonel Singleton liberated his slaves at the very outset of this war."

"And was compelled to flee to the North to save his own life," answered his wife; "and had we been wise, we would have gone to a country more congenial to our views, and while we could have done so with safety. I am afraid," she continued, "if it becomes known that our son has joined the Union army, serious trouble may befall us at the hands of men who have long desired an excuse for arresting you and confiscating your property; if, indeed, they would be content with sparing your life."

"If I were younger," said the old gentleman, "I would defy them to do their worst; and, as it is, my only fears are for my family, not for myself. Still," he added, "my neighbors are all friendly, and the majority of them, though thinking differently from me on these questions, are under obligations to me, so that I feel I have but little to fear at their hands. As to our boy, who has gone to fight for the old flag, I am proud of him; I fought for it, so did my fathers before me, and I would disown the child who would refuse, if necessary, to lay down his life in its defense."

And here, fired with the sentiments he had just uttered, he arose from the table in an agitated manner and began to pace the floor.

"Ah," he continued, "I love that old flag, and old as I am, would fight for it yet."

Going to a case that stood in a corner of the room, he took from a shelf a beautiful silken banner, and holding it aloft, he exclaimed, with great earnestness, "There is the flag I fight under--the flag of the Union and of the country our fathers fought to save."

"Father," exclaimed his eldest daughter, "you forget yourself in your enthusiasm; even now some one may be outside listening; you forget that Dan McCowan and his desperate gang may be in the vicinity and give us a call at any moment."

Scarcely had the warning fell from her lips, when there came a loud knocking at the door, followed by a few vigorous and well-directed blows that threatened to take it from its hinges.

The whole family started up in alarm, and while one s.n.a.t.c.hed the flag from the old gentleman and hastily deposited it in its hiding-place, another answered the summons from without.

The old man himself, while not frightened, was somewhat disconcerted by the noise, and remained standing in the center of the room, when the door was suddenly burst open, revealing a body of Confederate soldiers headed by a villainous-looking fellow, their leader, who now entered the room, and approaching him, said:

"Mr. Harcourt, I have orders to place you under arrest, so you will prepare to accompany us to Glendale at once!"

"What crime have I committed?" demanded the old man, now perfectly calm, "that you dare enter my house in this manner!"

"You will know that soon enough," replied the officer; "so hustle on your duds, as we must be going. Bill," he commanded, turning to a fellow near him, "you will search the house and take possession of anything contraband or treasonable that you can find."

This order was exactly what his followers wanted, as it meant really an order to plunder the house and appropriate to their own use whatever articles of value they found and that pleased them to take.

As none of the family had offered the slightest resistance, the unwelcome intruders had conducted themselves, so far, very orderly. Mrs.

Harcourt, a kind and matronly-looking woman, with a firmness and self-control, that under the circ.u.mstances was admirable, bustled about the room, getting together a small bundle of clothing for her husband to take with him on his enforced journey to Glendale; and anon, while doing this, spoke soothing words of comfort and encouragement to the younger children, who, white and speechless with terror, were crouching in the darkest corner of the room.

The eldest daughter, at a sign from her father, accompanied the two men detailed to search the premises, and proceeded with them from room to room, as they rummaged chests and drawers, appropriating various little articles to their own use, in spite of the indignant protest of the spirited girl at such barefaced robbery.

Finally, with much reluctance, she was compelled to admit them to her own room, and to witness their ruthless handling of the contents of a small trunk, in which were various little articles, trinkets and mementoes, worthless to any one else, but, of course, priceless to her.

But what she most prized among them, and which caused her the most alarm should they be discovered, was a small packet of letters from her brother already mentioned as serving in the Union army, and a small locket containing his miniature. Judge of her dismay were one of the men picked up the letters, and with a laugh exclaimed: "These are from your feller, I suppose;" and then, observing the locket, he opened it and with a leer on his face, said: "And this is his picture, I reckon, eh?"

"Yes," said the girl eagerly uttering, or rather echoing, the falsehood.

"Yes," she repeated, "please don't take them, as they are of no account to any one but myself."

"All right," said the fellow, good-naturedly, "I guess you can have them;" as he handed them to her. She eagerly seized them, trembling at the narrow escape they had had from falling into the possession of those, who knowing their contents, would have given her poor old father much trouble indeed.

Having completed their search, and finding nothing that could be considered of a treasonable character, they returned to the room below, and reported to their Captain the result of their search. He then ordered his men to retire to the outside, where he followed them, and after consulting a short time, he returned to the house and brusquely informed Mr. Harcourt that as he had found nothing to convict him of treason against the Confederate government, he might go this time, but to be d--d careful in the future, or he would get him yet. He then slammed the door behind him, rejoined his companions who mounted their horses and rode slowly away.

Satisfied that they had left, the family ventured to express their congratulations at the departure of their unwelcome visitors, and at once set to work rearranging the disordered room. They, however, felt that this was only the commencement of their prosecutions, and they well knew that another time, the chances were that they would not escape so easily; for should it become known that their son was in the Federal army, they could no longer hope to live in peace and safety. The men who had visited them on this occasion, were evidently strangers in the neighborhood, and were, no doubt, a scouting or foraging party, who had stopped more from a want of having anything else to do, than from a desire to do them any injury. They, however, knew, that from those in their own vicinity, there was much more to be feared; and of one person in particular, they stood in especial dread. That person was Dan McCowan, the man whose name was mentioned by Mary Harcourt, in her warning to her father, only a moment before the soldiers, had entered their dwelling. Dan McCowan was a man who for years had pursued the detestable calling of a negro-hunter.

He was about thirty-five years of age, tall, of an ungainly form, and slightly stoop-shouldered; his hair and eyes were dark, and his complexion as swarthy as an Indian. His features, naturally coa.r.s.e and repulsive, were rendered still more so, by being bronzed and hardened by long-continued exposure to the weather. His only a.s.sociates and his most intimate friends appeared to be his blood-hounds, which he used in hunting and bringing back to their masters, the poor negroes who were seeking to escape from a life of continued toil and bondage. The following unique hand-bill, which he used to post up in various places over the country, will serve to show the nature of his business, and also the vast amount of intelligence necessary to carry it on.

NO TIS.