He read it with an air of decided ill-humor. Then throwing it upon his desk, burst into a laugh.
“Well, Surry,” he said, “who is right and who is wrong, now? Read that!”
And he pointed to the note, which I opened and read. It was in a delicate female hand, and ran as follows:—
“General Stuart will pardon the attempt his captive is about to make, to effect her escape. He made himself quite charming in their brief interview, but liberty is sweet. Finding a friend unexpectedly in this quarter of the world, I have made every arrangement with him; he is a great master of disguises, and, though the travelling costume which I shall adopt will make me look hideous, I hope it will enable me, before sunrise, to pass a private ford, known to my friend alone, and reach the opposite bank of the Rappahannock.
“Farewell, my dear general. If all the rebels were like yourself, I might change my politics. I have but one other friend in your army—Colonel Mohun, of the cavalry. Present my regards to him, and say that we will meet again.”
That was all. I raised my eyes from the paper, and looked at the general with stupefaction.
“Then that ‘old woman’ was the lady?”
“Precisely.”
“And we are fooled?”
“Completely. They are by this time on the other side of the Rappahannock.”