“Whatever else you may believe of me, my dearest friend, I am true to you. I do not deny that what I have done may have justly brought upon me the stigma of disloyalty. We can not divide our love; one must either hate or love one’s country, and serve one flag, only. I have been tried in the furnace of war as few others have ever been. If I have erred in serving the country of my love, and to which I am devoted and owe allegiance with every fibre of my being, then I have erred honestly. “You must not believe me other than I am, though I may not always be what I seem to be. My allegiance is given, right or wrong, heart and soul to the country I love. And I must go on in this chosen path though it lead to misunderstanding of my motives by those I love, and though I may know that it leads to darkness and to death--for it is the path of duty. “I have a difficult and heart-and-nerve trying part to play, on a larger stage of the world, than perhaps any one of my age and small abilities ever before attempted. “When I learned that you were a prisoner, I made a plan for your liberation. I am risking my life to set you free; for I love you more than I do my life. If I should meet you in battle--which God forbid--you should kill me, rather than I would harm you. “I have confided in one who loves and trusts me, and who likewise loves his country. He will help you to escape. “JONATHAN N. VON RUCKER.” What did this strange letter mean? I sat, after reading it, like one confounded. It made me heartsick to believe that it was a declaration of disloyalty to my country. It crushed, for the time being, my belief in Jonathan’s loyalty to our flag, that he had professed and promised to love and protect when he enlisted to fight its battles. But by the same process of thought must I not mistrust General Burbank? Whom could I trust, when the men of all others I had loved and believed in, seemed disloyal? Though reason said that they were false to their country, my heart said “no”; for I felt, against reason, that it could not be so. I read and reread Jonathan’s letter, and finally decided to take a plain course--a straight cut. I took the letter to General Burbank and asked him to read it, and to make some explanation. Was it not a declaration of disloyalty? A flush passed over his face as he read the letter. Then with a thoughtful look he read it again and passed it back to me saying, “He had his reasons for writing this letter, but what they are I do not know. But don’t you see, he does not say it is Germany that he is serving? I _know_ that he is loyal to our flag.” “Thank you, General, for the assurance,” I exclaimed. And stretching out my hand to his, grasped it, for I had no longer the least doubt of him or of his word. Whatever the mystery, I must and did believe in him, though I confess, Jot’s letter had puzzled me.