"Let me," said the officer. "Your Excellency," he continued, "a young Virginian officer has just been fished out of the Mississippi."
Davis's eye flashed. "Good!" he said. "Look and see if there are many more," and then he added with a touch of melancholy, "The South needs them: fish them all out. Bring this one here."
Eggleston Lee Carey Randolph, still dripping from the waters of the bayou, was led by the faithful negroes who had rescued him before the generals. Davis, who kept every thread of the vast panorama of the war in his intricate brain, eyed him keenly and directed a few searching questions to him, such as: "Who are you? Where are you? What day of the week is it? How much is nine times twelve?" and so forth. Satisfied with Eggleston's answers, Davis sat in thought a moment, and then continued:
"I am anxious to send some one through the entire line of the Confederate armies in such a way that he will be present at all the great battles and end up at the battle of Gettysburg. Can you do it?"
Randolph looked at his chief with a flush of pride.
"I can."
"Good!" resumed Davis. "To accomplish this task you must carry despatches. What they will be about I have not yet decided. But it is customary in such cases to write them so that they are calculated, if lost, to endanger the entire Confederate cause. The main thing is, can you carry them?"
"Sir," said Eggleston, raising his hand in a military salute, "I am a Randolph."
Davis with soldierly dignity removed his hat. "I am proud to hear it, Captain Randolph," he said.
"And a Carey," continued our hero.