"What do you want?" inquired Miss Metoaca, seeing that neither of them spoke.
"The copy of the despatch from the adjutant general's office dropped by Colonel Mitchell last night."
"Haven't such a thing. Wouldn't know it if I saw it," snapped Miss Metoaca.
"Symonds, you and the sergeant can step outside." Lloyd waited until they were well out of hearing. "Miss Newton," turning directly to Nancy, "you and I have met before."
Nancy raised her head and glanced closely at him. "Oh, yes," she said. "I believe I have seen you once or twice."
"Twice?" Lloyd laughed. "I have a better memory than you. How about the 27th of December?"
Nancy looked at him in genuine surprise. "You speak in riddles," she said disdainfully.
"I think you can solve this one," he touched the scar on his temple. "The blow from your revolver kept me in the hospital for some time."
"Is the man crazy?" Miss Metoaca straightened indignantly in her chair. "My niece does not go around knocking men on the head, though she has broken some hearts."
"Come, Miss Newton, evasion will not help you," said Lloyd impatiently, paying no attention to Miss Metoaca's remark. "I know you are a rebel spy..."