“Who are you?” he asked, with a slight tremor.
“A Night Hawk of the Invisible Empire, with a message from the Grand Dragon of the Realm,” was the low answer, as he thrust a note in the doctor’s hand. “I will wait for your answer.”
The doctor fumbled to his office on the corner of the lawn, struck a match, and read:
“A great Scotch-Irish leader of the South from Memphis is here to-night and wishes to see you. If you will meet General Forrest, I will bring him to the hotel in fifteen minutes. Burn this. Ben.”
The doctor walked quickly back to the spot where he had heard the voice, and said:
“I’ll see him with pleasure.”
The invisible messenger wheeled his horse, and in a moment the echo of his muffled hoofs had died away in the distance.