Woods starts. "Ha, the damned scoundrel! Go on; go on." Joe knows PŠre Fran‡ois never got that letter. "I read those documents. His letter of last wishes to Hardin. When I was in Havana, I found Hardin never acknowledged the papers."
Woods sees it all. He listens as Peyton tells the story.
"We have to do with a villain," says Joe. "He destroyed the papers or has hidden them. Colonel, open this packet." Joe's voice is solemn.
With reverent hand, Peyton spreads the papers before the miner. There are stains upon them. Separating them, he arranges them one by one. Suddenly he gives a gasp.
"My God! Colonel Joe, look there!"
Woods springs to his side.
It is a "message from the dead."
Yes, lying for years unread, between the last letters of his wife and the tidings of her death, is an envelop addressed:
Major Henry Peyton,
Fourteenth Louisiana Inf'y,
C.S.A."
Tears trickle through Peyton's fingers, as he raises his head, and breaks the seal.