CHAPTER II.

RETURN TO BALTIMORE—DESTRUCTION OF THE PHOTOGRAPHS—FOLLOWED BY DETECTIVES—ANOTHER TRIP TO WASHINGTON—FIRST VISIT TO THE JUDGE ADVOCATE’S OFFICE—SCENE AT THE JUDGE ADVOCATE’S OFFICE THE FOLLOWING DAY—DENNIS RYAN’S STORY—THE DEAD CONFEDERATE.

I HAD A COLD, BLEAK ride to Baltimore, and although it was the express train, yet it seemed to me to move slowly, such was my impatience. On our way we passed the car containing the remains of President Lincoln, bound for Baltimore. When I reached the city, I found every place closed, and flags and crape in any quantity fluttering in the breeze. My fear was that there would be no conveyance at the depot, but I was mistaken, for notwithstanding the manifest grief, I found that business was still attended to. I jumped into the first carriage I saw, and told the man to drive quickly to No. 33—Street, my heart beating rapidly, the meanwhile, every time I thought of the probable fate of the unfortunate photographs, for I had no more fancy for a Massachusetts Penitentiary than had my friend.

I reached my boarding-house in safety, and the first thing I did, was to open my album, where, to my great relief, I saw the pictures of both Harry and Will., in undisturbed serenity, gazing at me with open-eyed wonder, as I tore them ruthlessly from their fastenings, and striking a match consigned them to the flames. I drew a long breath as I saw them gradually turn to ashes. And now I made ready to send the dispatch, but on arriving at the office to my great discomfort found it closed. Of course there was but one thing to do—wait—but that, under the circumstances, was very difficult.

The next day I was more successful, and congratulated myself on executing the business so satisfactorily. But, alas! “the best laid plans,” etc. I discovered afterwards that the telegram never reached its destination. Whether it was owing to our being overheard by the watchful detectives, or whether Nelson’s mind misgave him, I am not able to say.

I had been at home a week or ten days without hearing from my friends, or having anything occur to alarm me. The whole country was in an intense state of excitement, hunting Booth and his accomplices. Nothing was thought or talked of, but the one great event. It was at this juncture that I determined to pay a second visit to Washington, and endeavor to effect the release of my friends. Had I really understood the true state of affairs, I would have known how futile all efforts at that time would have been. My gentlemen friends did their utmost to dissuade me; but having no very high opinion of masculine moral courage, I determined to take the matter in my own hands and go. I had noticed on my previous visit to Washington, and ever since my return, I had been followed in my walks by persons whom I supposed to be detectives. Conscious of my own rectitude, the matter gave me little or no concern, except the feeling of annoyance at being watched.

On my arrival at Washington, I found the excitement, if anything, intensified—soldiers on guard in every direction—news boys shouting “Extras"—men loafing at corners, talking in loud tones, and gesticulating violently—and parties of boys and half-grown men, parading the streets, crying, “death to murderers and traitors,” “vengeance,” etc., etc. I made my way as fast as I could to my friend the lawyer, and told him my plan, which was, to see the Secretary of War and lay the matter of my friends’ arrest before him, and ask their release. I told him I had proof of their innocence, and it was those proofs I wished to have examined. My friend endeavored to dissuade me, assuring me that no one was safe, that he had heard the best Union men in New York say, that nothing would induce them to go to Washington during the excitement. I replied that it might be unsafe for gentlemen, but surely no woman ran any risk; at any rate there were none who seemed willing to help my friends now, and I was determined to do all I could.

I next proceeded to the Carrol Prison and inquired, as before, for Mr. H., but learned to my vexation that he was absent. I then asked to see Nelson, and on his making his appearance said, “Can you not allow me to see Mrs. Windsor?”

“No,” he answered gruffly.

“When will Mr. H. return?”

“Can’t say; may-be to-night; may-be not for a week.”

Here was a damper; but I said,

“Will you take my basket and empty it? it is for Mrs. Windsor, you know.”

He picked up the basket and took it with him, returning in a few moments.

“To whom must I go to get a pass?” said I.

“Judge Advocate, War Department.”

“Thank you. Will you be kind enough to tell my friends I came, but was not allowed to see them?”

“No, I’ll not; do you suppose I have nothing else to do, but run on errands?”

I answered nothing, but, taking my basket, left with a heavy heart. Suddenly it struck me I could let the Windsors know I had been there, in spite of Nelson. So I walked down to the end of the square, slowly, as if my empty basket was very heavy; then crossed on the opposite side, and walked leisurely along, putting my weight down, every now and then, as if to rest. The guard on that side took me, I suppose, for some one coming from market, for he just glanced at me and passed on.

My friends’ room I knew was a front one, so I was pretty sure they would see me from their window; nor was I mistaken. Mrs. Windsor told me afterwards what a relief it was, for, not receiving the telegram, she had taken it for granted that I was in prison.

I now proceeded to the Judge Advocate’s office, which was located near the War Department. Passing through the unwashed crowd, I asked the way of the messenger at the door. He pointed up the flight of steep narrow steps, and said, “Second floor, to left.” On reaching the top of the dark stairway, I saw an open door, which I entered, and found myself in a large room, with about half-a-dozen men busily writing, and some three or four reading the papers. On repeating my question, a man showed me into a front room, and informed me that the officer was then at the Old Capitol, but was expected in half an hour.

“Very well. I will wait,” said I.

I looked around the room to see what there was of interest. Nothing at all; the furniture just such as I had seen in the public offices, except that this had the advantage of being new. I soon became tired of waiting and staring about, and was wishing for the paper a man near me seemed reading. I suppose this thought induced me to raise my eyes to his face, and as I did so, I perceived he was not reading, but watching me. His face was so strangely familiar, that it startled me. The man, on seeing my look of surprise, immediately turned his back and commenced reading. Just then I heard a carriage drive to the door, and looking out, I caught a glimpse of an officer in uniform, who quickly ascended the stairs, and entered the room where I was.

“The Judge Advocate, I presume,” said I, rising from my seat.

He bowed.

“I have come to request permission to visit a relation now confined in the Carrol Prison,” I said, in a tremulous voice.

“The name?” he asked.

“Mrs. Windsor.”

“I have no knowledge of any such prisoner.”

“Yes, sir, she and her husband have been there for the past ten days.”

“On what charge?”

I related to him what I had heard about the servant. He listened attentively.

“Are your friends loyal?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Then give yourself no uneasiness; it will all be arranged in a few days.”

“I thought of going to see the Secretary of War, and asking him for my friends’ release.”

“That is not at all necessary. I have charge of the prisoners, and can open the doors to any. Besides that, the Secretary is so full of business now, arresting conspirators, that he would not, in all probability, listen to you. A visit to him would be useless.”

“Can you not give me a pass into the prison? I came over from Baltimore this morning, and wish to return to-night.”

“Well, no; I can hardly do that to-day, as I shall be obliged to see the record at the Carrol first; but if you can remain until to-morrow, and come here at twelve, I will give you a pass.”

“Very well, sir, I will do so;” and I began moving towards the door, when he said:

“Wait one moment; I wish to make memoranda of what you have...