Judithe had seated herself at the desk and picked up the pen. But as Monroe stepped out on the veranda she turned impatiently:
“The despatch?” and she held out her hand.
“I was followed––I read and destroyed it.”
“Its contents?”
“Too late, Madame,” he remarked, in a less confidential tone, as he laid the slip Monroe had given him on the 295 desk. He had seen Masterson at the door and with him the other rider!
Judithe did not raise her head. She was apparently absorbed in her task of addressing an envelope.
“I will speak with you directly,” she said, carelessly sealing the letter. He bowed and stood waiting, respectfully. Glancing up, she saw Captain Masterson, who had entered from the veranda, and bestowed on him a careless, yet gracious smile. Pluto brought the mail bag in from the hall, and she dropped the letter in, also a couple of papers she took from the top of the desk.
“There, that is all. Make haste, please, Pluto,” and she glanced at the clock. “I should not like that letter to miss the mail; it is important.”
“Yes’m, I gwine right away now,” and he turned to the door, when Masterson stepped before him, and to his astonishment, took the bag from his hand.
“You can’t take this with you,” he said, in a tone of authority. “Go tell Colonel McVeigh he is needed here on business most important.”