"Have you noticed that?" asked Davis.
"Yes; haven't you?"
"Yes; but I thought it was none of my business."
"Have you ever seen him write any letters?"
"No; I haven't, except for somebody else; he writes letters for Limus and Peagler."
Limus was a negro, Lieutenant Barnwell's servant. Peagler was one of Company H, and a valuable member of the infirmary corps, but he could not write.
The talk of the men had made me gloomy. I sought Captain Haskell, and unburdened to him. The Captain's manner toward me had undergone a modification that was very welcome to me; his previous reserve, indicated by formal politeness, had given place to a friendly interest, yet he was always courteous.
"I would do anything to relieve you," said he, "but of course you do not wish me to speak to the men about you."
"Certainly not, sir" said I; "that would only make matters worse."
"Have you ever yet heard from the hotel at Aiken?"