THE MISCHANCES OF A NIGHT

Baker glanced hopelessly about him; at the President, who pulled his old gray shawl closer around his shoulders to keep out the chill wind; at Lloyd, who stood clutching Nancy by her arms; and at the soldiers who stood grouped about them. For once his feelings were beyond expression.

“How long are you going to keep me here?” inquired Lincoln patiently. “And why did you jump at me like a Comanche Indian?”

“Not a mo-moment, sir,” stuttered Baker. “It was this young lady we were after. We had no intention at all of interfering with you.”

“And why do you want Miss Newton, Baker?” asked Lincoln.

“She is a rebel spy. We caught her signaling to-night.”

“I deny it,” exclaimed Nancy hotly; and she tried to step forward, but Lloyd’s strong arm held her back.

“Mr. President, hear me just one moment.” Lloyd spoke with great earnestness, and Lincoln turned to face him. One of the soldiers had found a half-burnt candle in his coat pocket, and by its feeble rays the President noticed Lloyd’s detaining hand on Nancy’s shoulder.

“Release Miss Newton,” he ordered sternly. “Then tell your story in detail.”

Reluctantly Lloyd did as he was told. “This young lady picked up a piece of paper in Gautier’s which I knew contained valuable information. I have suspected her for some days of supplying the Confederates with our secrets; so I followed her here, and saw the signal light. Colonel Baker and I thought you came up the street in answer to it. It was too dark to recognize you....”

“So you took me for a rebel spy?”

“I certainly am sorry for my precipitancy, Mr. President,” said Baker apologetically. “Thinking you were an accomplice of this lady’s, I tried only to do my duty.”

“My shoulder and arm can testify to your zeal,” chuckled Lincoln. “Now, Miss Nancy, what have you to say to these charges?”

“I never picked up a paper, Mr. President,” said Nancy firmly. “On my return home to-night from Gautier’s I found a message from my old mammy, Aunt Polly, saying she was very ill and that she needed me. She lives in that house with her son, who is the caretaker during Mr. Perry’s absence. So I...”

“Disguised yourself and came here,” broke in Lloyd insultingly.

“If by ‘disguise’ you mean I changed my evening gown, I did for this more suitable street dress.” Nancy threw back her head haughtily. “I am offering my explanation to the President; not to you, sir.”

“Continue your remarks, Miss Nancy,” directed Lincoln quietly.

“Why, that is all, Mr. President. After changing my gown I came here...”

“By side streets,” again interposed Lloyd.

“By side streets, because the more direct route is crowded with noisy men and women,” answered Nancy calmly. “I found Doctor Boyd here with Aunt Polly.” Lloyd uttered another exclamation, but Nancy refused to pay heed. “He advised that we move Aunt Polly into a room facing south as it would be warmer and more cheery for her in the daytime. Jasper and the doctor carried her there, and I went ahead with the lamp...”

“With which you have been signaling to the rebels,” declared Lloyd roughly.

“I did nothing of the sort,” retorted Nancy vehemently. “In trying to find a place to put the lamp down I walked backward and forward with it in my hand until I had pushed a table before the window. I then placed the lamp on it, and went to help the doctor. He told me my presence was no longer needed, and advised me to go home, as Aunt Metoaca would be alarmed by my long absence. Bidding Aunt Polly good night, I slipped out of the side entrance and ran into you at the gate, Mr. President.”

“Miss Nancy told me then,” volunteered Lincoln, slowly, “that she had been with Aunt Polly who was ill. I know Aunt Polly, too; we have frequent talks when I stroll down this street and she is working in the garden, or sweeping the driveway.”

“And I will take my oath to the truth of Nancy’s story,” said Doctor Boyd, stepping into the circle about the President. “Aunt Polly had to undergo a minor operation, she insisted on Nancy being present, and to prevent the old woman working herself into a fever I sent for Nancy. I would have escorted her here myself, but my duties at the hospital prevented.”

Lincoln nodded understandingly. “It’s all right, Doctor,” he said soothingly. “I believe Miss Nancy, and I guess our friend, Colonel Baker, does, also.”

Baker looked doubtfully at Nancy. “Yes,” he muttered ungraciously, “Miss Newton has made everything clear.” He turned to address Lloyd, but the latter had disappeared.

“Then suppose we walk on,” said Lincoln. “It is cold standing here. Your aunt called to see me this morning, Miss Nancy.”

“It was most kind of you to give us passes to Winchester.” Nancy looked gratefully at the President as she tried to keep step with his long strides. “The change will do Aunt Metoaca good, she has been too long in Washington without a change of air, and I am worried about her condition.”

Lloyd rejoined the little procession at the corner of New York Avenue and Seventeenth Street. To the right gleamed the lights of the cavalry corral on the ellipse back of the White House, and on the left were the buildings of the quartermaster general’s depot. Lloyd drew Baker to one side and whispered:

“Apparently the girl has covered her tracks this time. Symonds and I entered the house and the darky, Jasper, and his mother repeated the same tale to me. We searched the house, but could find nothing suspicious. On leaving I stationed a guard about the grounds, for I am convinced she did signal to some one who may try to enter the house later on.”

“Better give it up,” growled Baker, whose temper had been sorely tried by his own exploit.

“Never!” Lloyd’s teeth came together with an ominous click. “I will trap that girl if it takes me months.”

The President and Nancy led the way up Seventeenth Street to Pennsylvania Avenue and down that thoroughfare toward the White House. Lincoln stopped when he reached the entrance to the War Department.

“I am going in here to read the latest despatches,” he said. “Good night, Doctor. Miss Nancy, when do you go to Winchester?”

“On the early train to-morrow, or, rather, this morning. Good night, Mr. President.”

“Good night and a safe journey to you.” The President watched Nancy and Doctor Boyd out of sight; then turned to Baker. “Don’t take it to heart, man. I rather enjoyed your springing at me it was a new sensation.”

“Indeed, Mr. President, you should not go out at this time of night without a guard,” remonstrated Baker earnestly. “Then such a thing would never have happened. It is not safe for you to walk about without proper protection.”

“Baker,” said the President reminiscently, “you remind me of the little girl who had just been told of the omnipresence of God, and was so upset that she turned angrily upon her pet dog, saying: ’Go back in the house, Peggy. It’s bad enough having God tagging ‘round, without you.’ Good night, Baker,” and Lincoln disappeared inside the War Department.