CHAPTER XXVI.
EXTRAORDINARY MESSAGES.
The headquarters of Major Delany were most desirable and attractive; but it was, at the same time, easy of access to any one contemplating mischief. The parlor, library, museum, and private study, continuously arranged on the first floor from the basement, with glass doors, with outer Venetian blinds, extending from the ceiling to the floor, all opened upon a piazza, supported by massive columns; the parlor being the office of the major, the library and museum the office of the under clerks, the study at the extreme end of the piazza, the office of the chief clerk and assistant Captain A. W. Shadd.
The orderlies, seven in number, slept in the middle office, in blankets, while the ground floor beneath was occupied by the housekeeper and attendants.
Early one morning, before he had left his room, a colored gentleman came hurriedly up the front entrance, passing the first sentinel at the outer gate, bearing a dish, which, being partially exposed, showed the fruit it contained. So sudden was his approach upon the faithful orderly, Isaac Weston, who slept in the hall leading to the upper chamber, where slept his commander, that springing to his feet half awakened, he challenged the intruder. “A friend of the major,” was the hasty reply of the man, astonished to find himself hemmed in so suddenly by the guards, to whom, instantly, his movements were thought suspicious. “He is not up yet,” replied the orderly, “but his son is there,” pointing to the parlor, wherein was the young Delany, wrapped in dreams, no doubt, and unconscious of the anxiety without for his father’s safety.
“I wish to see the major himself,” persisted the man. “I’ve this dish for him.”
“I’ll take it,” replied the orderly.
To this proposition he demurred, saying, “I’ve a message of importance for him, and must deliver it myself.”
The guards allowed him to remain, to await the major. At intervals he would be seen to approach the window opening on St. Philip Street, in a most cautious manner. This restlessness was attributed by the guards to guilt and anxiety: so fraught with malice and revenge seemed the time and place, that suspicious of the motive of the man, they determined not to permit him to escape.