Thomas meanwhile, to hold the Confederates’ attention in that direction, was to actually storm Buzzard’s Gap. Schofield was to march against the enemy’s right flank thus adding to the deception of Thomas’ attack. The purpose in view, however, was for McPherson to reach Reseca, a place about twenty miles south of Dalton, and there fall upon the railroad thus cutting off the Confederate’s supplies. Intrenching himself there McPherson was to wage war upon Johnston in flank until he would be obliged to turn to grapple with him, when the rear would be open to Thomas and Schofield. Johnston had received intelligence of the contemplated attack on Buzzard’s Gap as has been shown. Sherman’s real intentions were as yet unknown to him. We have been thus particular in stating the situation to show the importance of Mara Morland’s mission to Johnston’s quarters on that evening. “Well, what is your business, sir?” asked General Johnston, without looking up from the chart that he was examining, as Mara in her disguise stood before him. “Important, sir, if I mistake not. I am the bearer of a message from Boyd Wyman.” “Boyd Wyman!” exclaimed the general quickly looking up. “Where is he?” “At the home of Colonel Morland, sir. He is wounded and could not come.” “So that accounts for his continued absence. I sent him to learn if possible Sherman’s projected plans. I had began to fear that some mischance had overtaken him.” “He barely escaped with his life, sir; and reached our place this morning unable to go further. Here are the papers, sir, he requested me to hand you.” General Johnston eagerly took the packet and tearing it open was soon perusing its contents. Mara saw his countenance change as he read on, and the hand that held the paper trembled. “Well, well,” he broke forth, at last, “this puts a new phase on the matter. Had I known this an hour earlier my plans would have been laid differently. But better late than never. We have time enough to reach there. Mr. Morland, for that is the name Wyman gives you, you have done us a great service. Any favor I can do you?” “I would like a pass, sir, so that I can return home.” “Certainly, and bear my good wishes to Wyman.” “Thank you. And--and if it is not asking too much,” stammered Mara, “I would like permission to visit Curtis Remington, the captive spy.” Her heart seemed to stop its beating as she waited for his reply. The general looked up with a frown. “I don’t know about that. He was to have been shot at sunset, but some one blundered. Do you know him?” “I knew him at one time.” “I see no harm in granting your request, and in consideration of the service you have done us, I will.” Seizing pen and paper he began to hurriedly write. “Your full name, please.” “Mara Morland.” She could have bitten her tongue out for giving utterance to the name. But it was just as well. “Mara” seemed as appropriate for a man as a woman.