For some moments I stood watching the spectacle, and it very considerably enlarged my experience. Before me I saw prominent politicians, officers of high rank, employees of government holding responsible positions, all gambling with an ardor that amounted to fury. One gentleman in uniform--apparently of the quartermaster’s department--held in his hand a huge package of Confederate notes, of the denominations, of $100 and $500, and this worthy staked, twice, the pretty little amount of $10,000 upon a card, and each time lost. The play so absorbed the soldiers, lawgivers, and law-administrators, that our presence was unperceived. My friend, Mr. Blocque, did not turn his head; Mr. Croker, Mr. Torpedo, and Colonel Desperade, were red in the face and oblivious. After that evening I knew where some of the public money went. As I was looking at the strange scene of reckless excitement, one of the players, a portly individual with black mustache, rich dark curls, gold spectacles, and wearing a fine suit of broadcloth--rose and looked toward us. Nighthawk was already gazing at him; and suddenly I saw their glances cross like steel rapiers. They had evidently recognized each other; and going up to the gentleman of the spectacles, Nighthawk said a few words in a low voice, which I did not distinguish. “With pleasure, my dear friend,” said the portly gentleman, “but you are sure you are not provided with a detective of General Winder’s?” “Can you believe such a thing?” returned Nighthawk, reproachfully. “I thought it possible you might have one waiting below; but if you give me your word, Nighthawk--” And without further objection the worthy followed Nighthawk and myself down the stairs. As we approached the outer door, the invisible janitor opened it; we issued forth into the street; and the portly gentleman, fixing a keen look upon me in the clear moonlight, said:-- “I believe we have had the pleasure of meeting before, colonel.” “I am ashamed to say I do not remember where, sir,” I said. “My memory is better, colonel; we met last May, in a house in the Wilderness, near Chancellorsville.” “Is it possible that you are--” “Swartz, very much at your service. It is wonderful what a difference is made by a wig and spectacles!” As he spoke, he gracefully removed his black wig and the gold spectacles. In the man with gray hair, small eyes, and double chin, I recognized the spy of the Wilderness. XI. THE PASS. Replacing his wig and spectacles, Mr. Swartz smiled in a good-humored manner, and said:-- “May I ask to what I am indebted for this visit?” Nighthawk replied even more blandly:-- “I wish to have a conversation with you, my dear Swartz, before arresting you.” “Ah! you intend to arrest me!” “Unless you make it unnecessary.” “How?” “By producing the paper which we spoke of in the Wilderness,” said Nighthawk, briefly. Swartz shook his head. “That is not in my power, my friend. I did not bring it with me.”