SOMERS had thrust the papers into his pocket, pretending to fear a sudden onslaught of the pickets; but the alarm passed without any consequences, serious or otherwise.

“We are perfectly safe, captain,” said Major Riggleston. “I believe you did not give me back my papers.”

“Here they are,” replied he, handing him the blank letter which had played so important a part in the attempt to capture him at the Hasbrouk house, and which he had put in his pocket at the time. “We are losing the whole night, and we had better move on. I am satisfied with the prospect, but I would rather not expose myself to the rebel pickets.”

“As you please; we can go through this place without being seen or heard. But I am well known all through the rebel army, and I shall not be molested when I give my name.”

“Then you will be a useful friend to me.”

“That’s what I have been trying to prove to you. Perhaps I ought to say that I actually hold a commission in the Confederate cavalry, which enables me to stand square before the rebels while I give information to our own people. You understand me.”

“Perfectly.”

“I have told you what no other living man knows; for even the high authority that employs me has no conception of the means by which I procure my information. I have trusted you, because you are a man after my own heart. What you did in Virginia endears you to me. We are kindred spirits, and it is proper that we should understand each other.”

Somers hoped they were not kindred spirits; for if the major was what he claimed to be, there could be but little sympathy between them. He was a coward and a brag; and he told more lies than even his dangerous profession required. He used the sacred relations of life for his own purposes. But Somers was not satisfied, as we have before suggested. The major had a safe-conduct from the authorities on both sides; and whatever weight he had given to the loyal one was neutralized by the production of the other. It was possible that he had procured it for the purpose of doing Union work; but one pass nullified the other; and the captain was still in doubt as to which side his versatile companion actually belonged—so much in doubt that he was fully determined not to run any risks.

Major Riggleston led the way up the ravine, both of them creeping and crawling at a snail’s pace, so as not to attract the attention of the pickets on the bank above them. Somers would not have been very much surprised if the “kindred spirit” before him had summoned the soldiers to make him a prisoner; but he stood prepared for such an emergency. His pistol was ready for immediate use; and if a scene occurred, he trusted to the darkness of the night and the friendly shelter of the ravine to promote his escape.

Apparently the highly respectable scout in his company had no intention of betraying him, for they passed in safety through the line of rebel pickets, and emerged from the ravine into a grove of oaks. If the major had set a trap to make him a prisoner, or had resorted to a scheme to save himself from a personal encounter in the lonely gorge, there was no longer any need that he should keep up his pretensions, for the camp fires of the rebels were to be seen in every direction. Only a few rods from the spot where they stood there was a body of cavalry bivouacking on the ground.

Somers was a prey to the most painful doubts. Uppermost in his mind was the wish to discharge with fidelity the difficult and dangerous task which had been imposed upon him; and if Major Riggleston was what he claimed, he would be an invaluable assistant to him. His two passes, one from each party in the great strife, proved nothing for or against him. It was utterly impossible, therefore, to reach a satisfactory conclusion in regard to his companion. But it was not prudent to place himself in a situation where he could be easily captured. All he could do was to permit affairs to take their own course until some further developments should enable him to act intelligently. As they were now actually within the rebel lines, the conclusion of the whole matter must soon be reached.

“This is rather dangerous business,” said the major, as they stepped from the bank into the oak grove.

“We must proceed with the utmost caution,” replied Somers, nervously, as he gazed earnestly at his associate, to obtain, if he could, any clew to his purpose.

“If you confide in me, Captain Somers, you will be safe, unless some stupid sentinel takes it into his head to fire upon us, which is really the only danger we incur.”

“I think we had better avoid these camps and squads of soldiers as much as possible. Do you know where the main line of Jackson’s army is?”

“Certainly I do; I will show it to you in due time.”

“Is he fortified?”

“You shall see in a short time.”

“How many men has he?”

“About seventy thousand.”

Somers knew better than this; and the answer sounded very much like a Confederate reply to a Union question.

“Now follow me,” said the major, “and whatever happens, don’t be alarmed.”

Riggleston led the way through the grove; but they had advanced only a few paces before they were challenged by a rebel soldier. The major replied to the demand with easy self-possession, informing the soldier who he was. It was all right, and they were permitted to proceed on their way.

“You see it is all right, captain,” said the major, as they entered the open field beyond the grove.

“They know you very well.”

“Of course they do.”

“If you know all about the situation and the force of the rebels, what is the use of going any farther?”

“I don’t know,” replied the major, rather confused at the question. “But, Somers, you wear your staff uniform.”

“I do.”

“That’s a mistake. It will expose yourself and me,” he added, with some appearance of alarm. “If I had seen what you had on before, I should not have dared to come with you.”

“I don’t intend to show myself to these people.”

“But we were challenged only a moment since; and if the soldiers had noticed your uniform, they would have detained you.”

“If I had been alone, I should not have exposed my self to their gaze.”

“It’s a mistake, and we must correct it.”

“Half the rebel officers wear Union colors. They rob our people of their coats, and don’t scruple to wear them.”

“But a staff uniform!”

“I think we had better separate here; I will take care of myself, and you can pursue your investigations in your own way.”

“You would be taken in less than half an hour. There is a house over here, where I can get you a farmer’s frock, or something of that kind.”

“Then, if taken, I am an officer in disguise; and it would go hard with me.”

“I think it would any way.”

“Perhaps it would.”

“You are pretty well known by reputation. You had better change your name.”

“Perhaps I will, if I have to give my name.”

“Who goes there?” demanded a squad of men, as they were on the point of crossing a rough farm-road.

“Friends,” replied the major.

“Who are you?”

“Major Riggleston.”

“We have just caught a Yankee spy—a fellow crawling into our lines,” replied one of the men.

There were four of them; they had a prisoner whom they were conducting up the road towards the main body of Jackson’s division.

“Where did you get him?”

“Up in the cornfield beyond. He was crawling on his hands and knees between the rows, and had got almost through when we found him. We shall do some hanging in the morning. What shall we do with him, major?”

Somers looked with interest and sympathy at the poor fellow thus entrapped; but the major was a Union man, and of course he would save him from his fate the moment he could consistently with the duty of keeping up appearances.

“Take him up to this house,” said the major, pointing in the direction he was leading Somers.

The men obeyed. Their dangling sabres indicated that they belonged to the cavalry; and the obedience they rendered to Major Riggleston further indicated that they belonged to his battalion.

“Why should these men obey you?” asked Somers, wishing to settle this point.

“They are my men. I told you I held a commission in the cavalry—for the good cause, you know.”

“I understand.”

“By the way, captain, have you seen Miss Hasbrouk since we met last?”

“I have not.”

“She follows the army.”

“Which army?”

“The rebel army, of course.”

“What for?”

“Because she likes it, I suppose. She is very useful as a nurse, they say. Of course I don’t discourage her; for I make her serviceable to the good cause, you know.”

The farm-house was now in sight, and there was a light in one of the front rooms. Without the ceremony of knocking, the major opened the door and entered, ordering the four cavalrymen to follow him with their prisoner.

“Come in,” said he.

“Who is in this house?” demanded Somers, shrinking from the light which he saw within.

“Only women, with a few wounded men. I want to see this prisoner, and find a good excuse for letting him go,” replied the major, in a whisper.

Somers entered the house, where the prisoner had already been conducted. To his surprise and chagrin he discovered that the unfortunate was Captain Barkwood, but the major did not seem to recognize his companion in the skirmish on the road and at the house of Mr. Riggleston in Frederick.

“Two of you hold your prisoner,” said the major to the soldiers, as they entered the small room.

“Now, Captain Somers,” he added, when Captain Barkwood had been placed in a corner with two men holding him, “allow me to add, that we have carried this farce quite far enough, and that you are also a prisoner.”

At this moment, to the astonishment of Somers, Maud Hasbrouk entered the room to learn the cause of the commotion,—for it appeared afterwards that she was here nursing a couple of officers who had been wounded at South Mountain.

“Why, major, I did not expect to see you at this early hour of the night,” said she.

“I have brought up one of your friends,” added he, laughing, as he pointed at Somers.

“Captain Somers!” exclaimed she, as a smile of triumph lighted up the features of the beauty. “This is an unexpected pleasure. I hope you are quite well, Captain Somers.”

“As well as usual, I thank you,” replied he.

We need not add that he was bewildered by the new situation, and roundly condemned his own folly in permitting himself to be led into such a trap. It was quite evident that the treacherous major had brought him to this house for the purpose of permitting Miss Maud to enjoy the triumph. He was determined not to afford her much satisfaction. It might prove to be a hanging affair to him, and he felt himself warranted in resorting to the most desperate remedies. It was better to die by a bullet or a sabre cut than perish by the rope.

“I have been entertaining our friend the captain for the last hour with an account of my services to the Yankees, all of which he has swallowed as a fish does a worm, without seeing the hook within. He came here like a lamb; and as you had some sparring with him on a former occasion, when he rather got the better of you, I thought you would like to see him before I send him and the other enterprising gentleman to the rear.”

“I am delighted to see him. And the other gentleman is Captain Barkwood. He belongs to the regulars.”

“I never saw him before,” replied the major.

Somers thought he had another attack of bad memory; but the situation was too exciting to permit him to dwell on minor discrepancies. When the major called him a prisoner, Somers had quietly fallen back into the corner of the room behind the door by which he had entered. Barkwood had been thrust back into another corner at his left, while Maud and the major stood diagonally opposite to him, and near the door by which she had entered from the chamber of her patients. The two cavalrymen not employed were standing half way between Somers and Barkwood.

“I’m sure I am delighted to see you, Captain Somers,” laughed Maud. “I came over here to take care of two sick friends, and expected nothing but a melancholy time. Your presence fills me with satisfaction.”

“I am greatly obliged to you, and thankful that I am able to do something more towards discharging the debt of gratitude I owe to you for your kindness on a former occasion. You are fond of situations, and I am again the central figure in one,” answered Somers, without any apparent appreciation of the difficulty and danger of his position. “Would you like to ask me any questions?”

“I cannot stop to question you now; my patients need my care. You would evade them if I did; besides, this is Major Riggleston’s affair, not mine,” replied she, with a mocking laugh.

“And I will take care that this affair don’t go wrong,” said the major. “Soldiers, secure your prisoners.”

The two men moved towards Somers in the corner.