With a warm clasp of the hand, and a hearty good-bye, Webster went out into the bright sunlight and frosty air of a winter's morning, and was soon lost to view.
Procuring a conveyance, Webster left Washington, passing the guards without difficulty, and made his way toward Leonardstown, in Maryland. This journey was accomplished without event or accident, and early on the following morning, he drove up before the hotel, and was warmly greeted by John Moore, the landlord of the hostelry at that place.
This Moore was a strong secessionist at heart, although openly professing to be a Union man, and regarding Webster as a Southern emissary his greeting was always cordial, and his hospitality unstinted. The air was cold and frosty, and riding all night in a stagecoach, which was far from being weather-proof, Webster was chilled through when the stage stopped before the comfortable inn of John Moore. Very soon, however, a jug of steaming punch, and the genial warmth from a fire of crackling logs in the large open fire-place, were instrumental in loosening the stiffened joints of my tired operative, and contributing materially to his comfort.
"Well, John," said Webster at length, "what is the prospect for crossing the river to-night?"
"We can't cross here at all any more, Webster," replied Moore, with an oath; "the damned Yankees are too sharp for us."
"Is there no way of getting over about here at all?" asked Webster, somewhat troubled at the unexpected information.
"There's a way for some people," replied Moore with a laugh, and a significant wink, "and I guess you are included in the number."
"All right," said Webster, immeasurably relieved, "but how do we manage it?"
"Well," replied Moore, "you will have to go up to Cob Neck, and then I will see that you are taken care of."
Cob Neck is a point of land extending out from the main shore, about fourteen miles distant from Leonardstown, and was very well adapted for the purpose in view. On each side of the point, or neck, there was a wide bay or inlet where a boat could put out, and the ground, which was soft and marshy, was completely covered with a growth of pine thickets and underbrush, which prevented the placing of vigilant pickets at this point. Being perfectly acquainted with the locality named, Webster had no fears of being able to get safely across the Potomac into Virginia, and then continuing his way to the rebel capital.