It so happened, and I take pleasure in recording it, as something almost supernatural, or in the line of that providence that seemed always to be with me, and to control my actions at the right time, that at the very time I was arranging all these details in my room, preparatory to an escape in the evening, a visitor was in the prison waiting to see me.
As I have so often said, while in the prison I had positively and even stubbornly declined to ask any consideration at the hands of the Secretary of War or his whelping advisers. This singular feeling I shall not attempt to excuse now, simply stating the facts. It was a mistake; but my whole life seems to have been made up of mistakes. The effect of it was to estrange from me even my best friends, and my brother who, on account of the confidential relations he held in the War Telegraph Office, was afraid to become too openly interested in my case.
Rather to my surprise, I was notified on this Saturday afternoon by one of the regular prison attendants that I was wanted in Colonel Woods' office. Of course I suspected at once that our little game had been found out, and that I was to be called upon for an explanation. This subject of escaping had been in my mind so much lately that I could not for the time think that anything else was probable. As if further to confirm my suspicions, the attendant who brought the summons to me said, in his polite but positive way, "I am ordered to stay with you, and you are to take anything you have along, as there is to be some change made in your case."
I had not brought anything with me to the prison in the way of baggage, and had really less to take away, excepting the greybacks, which we had always with us. My only baggage was my light wearing apparel, with the Bible which Mrs. Wells had given to me.
The purpose in thus suddenly summoning prisoners to headquarters was to prevent their relieving themselves of anything incendiary which a search of the person might have disclosed.
My request to be permitted to see Miss Boyd was politely refused by the attendant, who explained his refusal by saying, his orders were to take me at once to the office and to prevent any communication. I saw that it was no use to reason or argue with that New Hampshire Yankee—he had his orders and was going to obey them to the letter—so, gathering up my coat, slipping it on nervously, and, donning my hat, I was at his side, and in a few minutes more was inside Colonel Woods' office.
To my astonishment, I saw my brother and some stranger seated in the office chatting cheerfully with Colonel Woods. The greeting of Spencer on this occasion was so entirely different from the first visit, when he had involuntarily broken down on seeing me, that I was further surprised by his clapping me on the back, in his old-time brotherly way, and saying, "Well, boy, we are going to take you away from here."
I don't know what I said or did; probably the first feeling was one of disappointment that I was to be deprived of the fun of escaping; but, quickly realizing the fact that I had almost overlooked that there was a world outside, I joined pleasantly in the greetings until it was explained that there were some little preliminaries to be arranged, in the way of signing some papers.
When my brother's friend spoke up in explaining this, and observed that the Secretary was "disposed to be lenient in my case," a feeling of resentment came over me, which might have broken out in some expression, if my brother had not whispered: "Father wants you to go home, and says Covode will arrange everything right there."
The mention of my father, and a request from him has, under all conditions and circumstances of my checkered life, been respected, and, if possible, complied with. It has been my observation, too, that I have never made a mistake while acting under his advice, and, also, that I have always found it disastrous to disregard his injunctions. In this case my father's simple request had more effect than the Secretary's mandate.