“But Captain Farnsworth left no packet with me for you,” Patty returned. Her heart was beating wildly, lest she commit some indiscretion, and she prayed that she might do exactly right in this emergency.
“Of course, not by name.” The man spoke low, and glanced about him. “It’s a secret mission. But I’ve credentials and an order.”
He drew from his pocket an official-looking document, and showed Patty an order for the envelope left with her.
“This isn’t signed by Captain Farnsworth,” she said, examining it carefully.
“No; he didn’t dare sign it, it’s a diplomatic matter. But it is signed, as you see, by Colonel Brent, and it is authoritative.”
“It would seem so,”—Patty’s voice was calm, though her heart and nerves were in commotion, “but I have no parcel such as you describe.”
“Not a parcel,—a packet,—of papers.”
“Just what is the difference between a parcel and a packet?”
Patty smiled at him, for a gleam of threatening intent in his eye convinced her it was better to temporise.
“Don’t trifle, Miss Fairfield, this is your country’s business. I’m sent by the administration authorities for the envelope, and it is your duty to hand it over, otherwise there may be serious consequences—both to and because of you.”