"'Come and help us make shirts for our soldiers. We need the immediate assistance of all our women at this critical time....'"
The silence in the room was unbroken except for the heart-beats of the two women facing a sure future, looking sadly into each other's eyes. Suddenly Elizabeth threw back her head proudly.
"Never!" she said. "Right is right. We must abide by the consequences of our belief. We will work for the Union or sit idle!"
The testing of Elizabeth Van Lew had come. Fearlessly she made her choice—fearlessly she took the consequences. From that moment her story is the story of the Federal Spy.
II
"Out in the middle of the turbulent river James lay Belle Isle Prison surrounded by its stockade. In the city of Richmond, at the foot of Church Street, almost at Betty Van Lew's door, was the Libby, with its grim, gray walls; only a stone's throw farther away were Castle Lightning on the north side of Cary Street, and Castle Thunder on the south side. In July of 1861 the battle of Bull Run was fought, and the Confederate army defeated and put to flight by the Union soldiers. The Libby, Belle Isle and Castle Thunder all were overflowing with scarred and suffering human beings,—with sick men, wounded men, dying men, and Northern prisoners." Here was work to do!
Down the aisles of the hastily converted hospitals and into dim prison cells came almost daily a little woman with a big smile, always with her hands full of flowers or delicacies, a basket swinging from her arm. As she walked she hummed tuneless airs, and her expression was such a dazed and meaningless one that the prison guards and other soldiers paid little heed to the coming and going of "Crazy Bet," as she was called. "Mis' Van Lew—poor creature, she's lost her balance since the war broke out. She'll do no harm to the poor boys, and maybe a bit of comfortin'. A permit? Oh yes, signed by General Winder himself,—let her be!" Such was the verdict passed from sentry-guard to sentry in regard to "Crazy Bet," who wandered on at will, humming her ditties and ministering to whom she would.
One day a cautious guard noticed a strange dish she carried into the prison. It was an old French platter, with double bottom, in which water was supposed to be placed to keep the food on the platter hot. The dish roused the guard's suspicions, and to a near-by soldier he muttered something about it. Apparently unheeding him, "Crazy Bet" passed on beyond the grim, gray walls, carrying her platter, but she had heard his words. Two days later she came to the prison door again with the strange dish in her hand wrapped in a shawl. The sentry on guard stopped her.
"I will have to examine that," he said.
"Take it!" she said, hastily unwrapping it and dropping it into his hands. It contained no secret message that day, as it had before—only water scalding hot, and the guard dropped it with a howl of pain, and turned away to nurse his burned hands, while "Crazy Bet" went into the prison smiling a broad and meaningless smile.