"I did not dare to try him. I gave him a chance to nibble at my bait, but he wouldn't bite. Perhaps, when I know him better, he will come round; for I don't think there are many of these Yankee officers that have any real heart in their work."
"You are utterly mistaken," said Somers; but remembering that he was hardly in a position to defend his loyal comrades in the navy, he did not seriously combat the proposition of the rebel emissary.
As the business of the interview was now finished, Somers shook hands with his agreeable host—though his heart repelled the act,—and took leave of him. He hastened to his chamber, agitated and excited by the strange and revolting scene through which he had just passed. It was some time before he was calm enough to think coherently of what he had done, and of the compact he had made. He wished very much to see Mr. Waldron now; indeed, he felt the absolute necessity of confiding to some trustworthy person the momentous secret he had obtained, which burned in his soul like an evil deed.
If Lieutenant Pillgrim had not actually read his commission when it lay on the table, he must, at least, have suspected that all was not right with his shipmate. He must, therefore, confide in him, and without the loss of another moment, he hastened to his room for this purpose; but the lieutenant was not there. He searched for him in all the public rooms of the hotel, but without success. Remembering that his fellow-officer was to meet Mr. Wynkoop in the reading-room half an hour from the time they parted, he waited there over an hour, but the appointment evidently was not kept by either party.
Somers did not wish to sleep another night without sharing his great secret with some one; for if anything should happen to him, he reasoned, the commission and the orders might be found in his possession, and subject him to very unpleasant suspicions, if they did not expose him to the actual charge of complicity with the enemies of his country. He waited in the vicinity of the office till midnight, hoping to see Mr. Pillgrim; but he did not appear, and he reluctantly retired to his chamber.
When he carried his key to the office in the morning, there was a note in his box, addressed to him. The ink of the direction was hardly dry, and the lap of the envelope was still wet where it had been moistened to seal it. Somers opened it. He was surprised and startled at its contents; but the writer had evidently made a mistake in the superscription. It was as follows:—
"My Dear Pillgrim: I have just sent a note to Somers, saying that the Ben Nevis has sailed,—which is a fact,—and that he must join her at Mobile, where she will run in a cargo of arms and provisions. Act accordingly. How is this?
"Langdon."
Both the name and the import of the letter implied that the note was not intended for Somers, though it was directed to him. The writer had evidently written two notes, and in his haste had misdirected the envelopes.
"My dear Pillgrim!" The note was intended for his fellow-officer. Was Pillgrim a confederate of Langdon? It looked so, incredible as it seemed.
Somers was bewildered for a moment, but he was too good a strategist to be overwhelmed. Restoring the note to its envelope, he readjusted the lap, which was still wet, and the letter looked as though it had not been opened. He returned it to the box under his key, and perceived that there was also a note in Mr. Pillgrim's box. As soon as the mistake was discovered, the letters would be changed. He returned to his room to await the result.