“Unfortunately, the rules of Fort Delaware are very strict, however. To cross the ‘dead line’ is death; to attempt to burrow is confinement in irons, and other degrading punishments; and to bribe the sentinels invariably resulted in having the whole affair revealed, after they had received the money. It really seemed as if Colonel Mohun were doomed to the living death of a filthy prison until the end of the war, since exchanges had ceased, and it was only by devising a ruse of very great risk that I accomplished the end in view.”
“What was your plan, Nighthawk?” said Stuart, rising and moving to the fireplace, where he stood basking in the warmth. “Original, I lay my life, and—quiet.”
“Exactly that, general.”
And Nighthawk smiled sweetly.
XVIII. — THE UNIFORM.
“I have always observed, general,” said Mr. Nighthawk, raising his eyes in pious meditation, as it were, “that there is no better rule for a man’s conduct in life than to make friends with the mammon of unrighteousness—people in power.”
“A profound maxim,” laughed Stuart; “friends are useful—that was your principle?”
“Yes, general; and I made one of the quartermaster of the post—a certain major Woodby—who was exceedingly fond of the ‘root of all evil.’ I made that gentleman’s acquaintance, applied for the place of sutler in the pen; and this place I acquired by agreeing to pay a heavy bonus in thirty days.