“It was not much, sir. I saw the Federal people on horses, watering their horses in a large river somewhere west of here, and the vision said the war would be over about next March.” Mohun smiled. “Which side will be successful, Amanda?” “The vision did not say, sir.”[1] [Footnote 1: Colonel Surry assured me that he had scrupulously searched his memory to recall the exact words of this singular woman: and that he had given the precise substance of her statements; often, the exact words.--ED.] Mohun, who had taken his seat on a rude settee, leaned his elbow on his knee, and for some moments gazed into the fire. “I have asked you some questions, Amanda,” he said at length, “relating to public events. I _now come to some private matters_--those which brought me hither--in which your singular visions may probably assist me. Are you willing to help me?” “Yes, indeed, sir, if I can,” was the reply. XI. DEEP UNDER DEEP. Mohun fixed his mild, and yet penetrating glance upon the singular woman, who sustained it, however, with no change in her calm and smiling expression. “You know Nighthawk?” “Oh, yes, sir. He has been here often.” “And Swartz?” “Very well, sir--I have known him many years.” “Have you seen him, lately?” “No, sir; not for some weeks.” “Ah! You saw him some weeks since?” “Yes, sir.” “At this house?” “Yes, sir.” “Do you know what has become of him?” “No, sir; but I suppose he is off somewhere.” “He is dead!” Her head rose slightly, but the smile was unchanged. “You don’t tell me, sir!” “Yes, murdered; perhaps you know his murderer?” “Who was it, sir?” “Colonel Darke.” “Oh, I know _him_. He has been here, lately. Poor Mr. Swartz! And so they murdered him! I am sorry for him.” Mohun’s glance became more penetrating. “You say that Colonel Darke has been here lately?” “Yes, sir.” “What was the occasion of his visit?” “I don’t know, sir; unless it was to hear me tell my visions.” “You never knew him before?” Amanda hesitated. “Yes, sir,” she said at length. “When, and how?” “It was many years ago, sir;--I do not like to speak of these things. He is a terrible man, they say.” “You can speak to me, Amanda. I will repeat nothing; nor will Colonel Surry.” The singular woman looked from Mohun to me, evidently hesitating. Then she seemed suddenly to make up her mind, and said, with her eternal smile:-- “I will tell you, then, sir. I can read faces, and I know neither you nor Colonel Surry will get me into trouble.” “I will not--on my honor.” “Nor I,” I said. “That is enough, gentlemen; and now I will tell you what you wish to know, General Mohun.” As she spoke she closed her eyes, and seemed for some moments to be reflecting. Then opening them again, she gazed, with her calm smile, at Mohun, and said:--