The General starts convulsively; snatches a revolver from a drawer, and listens in an agony of apprehension. Nothing happens. He puts the revolver back, ashamed; wipes his brow; and resumes his work. He is startled afresh by the entry of an Orderly. This Orderly is an unsoldierly, slovenly, discontented young man.
MITCHENER. Oh, it's only you. Well?
THE ORDERLY. Another one, sir. Shes chained herself.
MITCHENER. Chained herself? How? To what? Weve taken away the railings and everything that a chain can be passed through.
THE ORDERLY. We forgot the doorscraper, sir. She laid down on the flags and got the chain through before she started hollerin. Shes lying there now; and she says that youve got the key of the padlock in a letter in a buff envelope, and that you will see her when you open it.
MITCHENER. Shes mad. Have the scraper dug up and let her go home with it hanging round her neck.
THE ORDERLY. Theres a buff envelope there, sir.
MITCHENER. Youre all afraid of these women (picking the letter up). It does seem to have a key in it. (He opens the letter, and takes out a key and a note.) "Dear Mitch"—Well, I'm dashed!
THE ORDERLY. Yes Sir.
MITCHENER. What do you mean by Yes Sir?