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My silence implied that I knew it, though I did not feel any brighter, happier or cleaner.

"If I tell you that," said the Captain, "you won't like me the least bit."

I almost leaped from the ground in consternation. My whole frame throbbed, my mouth fell open, my tongue was tied.

"What's the name, General, of the man whose house I'm to go to?"

I stepped back, heaving. "Who and what are you? Who and what are you?"

"She air!" He was pleased. "Yass, we all good frien's togetheh."

I rallied all my wits. Here was an open window. Through it the moonlight poured in upon the lower half of the bed. If I should lie with my eyes in the shadow of the headboard no one entering by the door opposite could see that I was looking. Good! but what to do when the time should come--ah me!--and "Oh, God!" and "Oh, God!" again. Ought I, now, to let the enemy get the despatch, or must I not rather keep it from him at whatever risk of death or disgrace? Ah! if I might only fight, and let the outcome decide for me! And why not? Yes, I would fight! And oh! how I would fight! If by fighting too well I should keep the despatch, why, that, as matters now stood, was likely to be the very best for my country's cause. On the other hand, should I fight till I fell dead or senseless and only then lose it, surely then it would be counted genuine and retain all its value to mislead. Oh, yes,--I could contrive nothing better--I would fight!

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