After another enjoyable evening spent at the Wells house following this conversation at Provost Headquarters, I went to my quarters quite disturbed in heart and mind as to my duty.
With the sweet voice of "Juanita" still ringing in my ears, and the memory of her beautiful eyes seemingly appealing to my tenderest sympathies, I went to bed with my head in a whirl, and dropped into a restless sleep without having settled the question in my own mind satisfactorily as to her father's guilt. There was no question as to the Captain's being entirely competent to pilot or even command such an expedition, and I may as well cut this story short by the frank admission that, had he not been the father of a very pretty girl, I would have jumped at the same conclusion as the officer.
I was, however, unwilling to believe that the father of such an interesting family, all of whom had been born and reared in Pennsylvania, would become the leader of a piratical gang. I concluded at last that I would postpone any action, for a while at least. I could do this with the better grace, as I was not specially engaged in secret service at that time. I rather relished the truth, too, that the failure of the Secretary of War to recognize my former services relieved me from any obligation to act as "spotter" for the Pinkerton detectives.
But after having slept over the matter, and while enjoying a walk the next morning among the neighboring camps, over which floated the "emblem," I suddenly regained my senses, for a little while at least, and made up my mind that it would be worse than traitorous for me, by my silence and apparent association, to permit those Maryland sympathizers to go on and mature a plan to hire a gang of Baltimore plug-uglies to play the pirate on unarmed vessels on the bay, within sight of our armies. I could, at least, put the officials on their guard. I walked back toward my "office," where I briefly wrote the rumor as it had, without my volition, been detailed to me, and at once put the letter in form to reach Mr. Covode through the improvised mail service then existing between Washington and the army of McDowell. I felt better for having done this much. I had also advised Mr. Covode that I was in a position to follow up the matter from this clew, and, if it could be confirmed, I would give the information directly to himself, and no one else. I expect, too, that I was indiscreet enough to have taken this opportunity to ventilate my own rather fresh opinions of Secretary Stanton; because just then I was smarting under his seeming indifference to and neglect of my services and claims. I am sure that my letter contained some unnecessary criticisms on Mr. P. H. Watson, Assistant Secretary, as well as the Secret Service Corps, which was under his direction, and Maj. Eckert, of the Telegraph Corps.
This letter was intended as a private communication to my friend Covode, and I had particularly cautioned him not to permit certain War Department influences to get hold of the rumors, as I wanted to work it out myself. I learned subsequently, to my sorrow, that this personal letter, containing both the information and the criticism, was sent to the War Office at once as an important paper. Anybody will see that it was not only a mistake of my own to have written in this way, but also of Mr. Covode's to have shown it; but it was one of that statesman's "privileges" to mix things up. It probably never occurred to him—as I afterward heard—that the principal effect of the criticisms, coupled with the "information," would be to impress upon the War Department officials the suspicion that Covode had employed me as one of his agents to play the "spy" on our own officials, for the benefit of the Congressional Committee of the War.
I was not very much bothered about the consequences of such things at that time. I was in love, which will account for a good many of my mistakes.
When I went to my newly-found home, at Capt. Wells's house, the evening of the same day on which I had written and mailed this letter, I was received so kindly and courteously into the house by the genial Captain himself, that I began to feel that I had been guilty of an awfully shabby trick in having reported, even privately to Mr. Covode, a private conversation with this Staff officer in regard to mine host.
Indeed, I was feeling so uncomfortable over what seemed to have been an ungracious return for favors received, that I took the first opportunity to get out of the Captain's presence, and, in the seclusion of my room that night, I inwardly resolved that I would, if possible, attempt to modify my report by another letter to follow the first.
The evening was spent in the little parlor, as on the many previous occasions. I was treated as one of the family, and entertained in the most agreeable manner by the accomplished ladies of this happy household. Each night we had music. Of course, Juanita, with the guitar, accompanied by Geno, became one feature of all others that was always so charmingly attractive to me. The Captain himself sang a number of comic songs with good effect, while the elder daughter, Miss Sue, exerted herself in a pleasant way to create a little fun for the company at my own and Geno's expense. Col. Hoffman, Mr. Wilson and myself furnished the only audience, while a happy-faced, brisk little mother supplied the refreshments, and made us all feel at home.
This general attempt at a description of one evening must suffice for the many, many happy days and evenings that I spent in Fredericksburg during the months of McDowell's occupation of that country. As I have previously stated, I could furnish the material for a romance based on wonderful facts connected with my different visits here that would make a large-sized book in itself. This is simply a blunt narrative of fact.