Henry Dumont had been thrust violently into the room by the soldiers outside. He had been captured, as Arrelsford had said, earlier in the day; he had allowed himself to be taken. He had been thrust into Libby Prison with dozens of prisoners taken in the same sortie. He had not been searched, but then none of the others had been; had he been selected for that unwonted immunity alone it would have awakened his suspicions, but the Confederates had made a show of great haste in disposing of their prisoners, and had promised to search them in the morning. Therefore, Henry Dumont had retained the paper which later he had given Jonas, when by previous arrangement he made his daily visit to the prison.
He had been greatly surprised, when about a quarter to nine o’clock, a squad of soldiers had taken him from the prison, had marched him hurriedly through the streets with which he was entirely unfamiliar, and had taken him to the residence section of the city, and had halted at the back of a big house. He had asked no questions, and no explanations had been vouchsafed to him. He was more surprised than ever when he was taken up to the porch, the window was opened, and he was thrust violently into a room, so violently that he staggered and had some difficulty in recovering his balance.
He made a quick inspection of the room. Thorne, in the deeper shadows at the farther end of the room was invisible to him. He stood motionless save for the turning of his head as he looked around him. He moved a few steps toward the end of the room, opposite his entrance, passed by the far door opening into the back hall which was covered with portières, and went swiftly toward the near door into the front hall. The door was slightly ajar, and as he came within range of the opening he saw in the shadows of the hall, crossed bayonets and men. No escape that way!
He went on past the door toward the large windows at the front of the house and in another moment would have been at the front window where Thorne stood. The latter dropped the curtain and stepped out into the room.
For the thousandth part of a second the two brothers stared at each other, and then in a fiercely intense voice, Thorne, playing his part, desperately called out:
“Halt! You are a prisoner!”
Both brothers were quick witted, both knew that they were under the closest observation, both realised that they were expected to betray relationship, which would incriminate both, and probably result fatally for one and certainly ruin the plan. Thorne’s cue was to regard his brother as the prisoner whom it was important to arrest, and Dumont’s cue was to regard his brother as an enemy with whom it was his duty to struggle. The minds of the two were made up instantly. With a quick movement Dumont sought to pass his brother, but with a movement equally as rapid, Thorne leaped upon him, shouting again:
“Halt, I say!”
The two men instantly grappled. It was no mimic struggle that they engaged in, either. They were of about equal height and weight, if anything Thorne was the stronger, but this advantage was offset by the fact that he had been recently ill, and the two fought therefore on equal terms at first. It was a fierce, desperate grapple in which they met. As they struggled violently, both by a common impulse, reeled toward that part of the room near the mantel which was farthest away from doors or windows, and where they would be the least likely to be overheard or to be more closely observed. As they fought together, Thorne called out again:
“Corporal of the Guard, here is your man! Corporal of the Guard, what are you doing?”