Mohun; Or, the Last Days of Lee and His Paladins.: Final Memoirs of a Staff Officer Serving in Virginia. from the Mss. of Colonel Surry, of Eagle's Nest.Cooke, John Esten
History
Mohun; Or, the Last Days of Lee and His Paladins.: Final Memoirs of a Staff Officer Serving in Virginia. from the Mss. of Colonel Surry, of Eagle's Nest.
Cooke, John Esten
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction; Virginia -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction; War stories
“Will you think me very impolite if I say I do not believe you, my dear
Swartz?”
Swartz smiled.
“Well, that would be speaking without ceremony, my friend--but I assure
you I am unable to do as you desire.”
“Aha! you repeat that curious statement, my dear Swartz! Well, oblige me
by accompanying me to the provost-marshal’s.”
“You arrest me?”
“Precisely.”
“As a spy?”
“Why not?”
“It is impossible, Nighthawk!”
“You resist?”
“I might do so.”
And, opening his coat, Mr. Swartz exhibited a bowie-knife and revolver.
“I show you these little toys,” said he, laughing good-humoredly, “to
let you see, my friend, that I might oppose your project--and you know I
am not backward in using them on occasion. But I make a difference.
You are not a common police-officer or detective, Nighthawk--you are
a friend and comrade, and I am going to prove that I appreciate your
feelings, and respect your wishes.”
Nighthawk fixed his eyes on the speaker and listened.
“You are a friend of General Mohun’s,” said Mr. Swartz, with bland good
humor; “you wish to secure a certain document in which he is interested;
you fancy I have that document here in the city of Richmond; and your
object, very naturally, is to force me to surrender it. Well, I do not
object to doing so--for a consideration. I fully intend to produce
it, when my terms are accepted. I would have stated them to you in the
Wilderness, but you were unable to meet me--or to General Mohun, but his
violence defeated every thing. You meet me now, and without discussion,
demand the paper. I reply, that I have not brought it with me, but
three days from this time will meet you at a spot agreed on, with the
document, for which you will return me--my consideration.”
Nighthawk shook his head.
“Unfortunately, my dear Swartz, experience tells me that the present is
always the best time for business--that ‘a bird in the hand is worth two
in the bush.’”
Mr. Swartz smiled sweetly.
“And I am the bird in your hand?”
“Something like it.”
“I am a spy?”
“Don’t use hard names, my friend.”
“By no means, my dear Nighthawk, and if I have hurt your feelings, I
deeply regret it. But I am speaking to the point. You regard me as a
Federal spy, lurking in Richmond--you penetrate my disguise, and are
going to arrest me, and search my lodgings for that paper.”
“The necessity is painful,” said Nighthawk.
“It is useless, my friend.”
“I will try it.”
Swartz smiled, and drew a paper from his pocket, which he unfolded.
“You are then determined to arrest your old comrade, Nighthawk.”
“Yes, my dear Swartz.”
“As a spy?”
“Exactly.”
“In spite of this?”
And Mr. Swartz held out the paper.
“Do me the favor to read this, colonel, and then oblige me by returning
it.”
I took the paper, and easily read it by moonlight. It contained the
following words:--
“The bearer is employed on secret service, by the Confederate
Government, and will not be molested.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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