“God in heaven, who sees me, knows that I never read a single word, or syllable of it.”
“Then,” said the clerk in surprise, “you know not what a dangerous handkerchief you have been carrying.”
“Yes, sir; I knew it was attended with some sort of danger, but I do emphatically deny being a spy. All I had to do was to deliver the handkerchief to a certain person, and go back home.”
“And that person is named here,” replied the clerk. “I wouldn’t given a snap of my finger for his life.”
Mildred turned pale on hearing this, and on re-calling the fact that General A. had told her that if she were detected, a third party would be compromised.
“Notwithstanding your unnecessary abuse of myself,” said the clerk, “I hope your excuse will be considered sufficient to procure your release. Your friends have made a mere tool of you for the accomplishment of their own purpose. But I must take you to head-quarters. If you will promise to go along quietly, I will accompany you myself; if you are not, I will turn you over to the police.”
“I will go with you,” said Mildred, who was now ready almost to faint.
The clerk and Mildred descended to the street, and entered a passing hack. In a few moments they alighted at the head-quarters of Gen. ——, to whom the clerk delivered the handkerchief. He read it over twice and said:
“A pretty kettle of fish is this! Are you the bearer of this, young lady?”