“That one you last saw in the lonely house near Monk’s Neck. Hush! here she comes.” His voice had sunk to a whisper, and he drew me into the shrubbery, as a long bar of light, issuing from the door in the rear of the house, ran out into the night. “I am going to follow her,” whispered Nighthawk, placing his lips close to my ear, “she is at her devil’s work here in Richmond, as Swartz was--.” Suddenly he was silent; a light step was heard. A form approached us, passed by. I could see that it was a woman, wrapped from head to foot in a gray cloak. She passed so close to us that the skirt of her cloak nearly brushed our persons, and disappeared toward the gate. The iron latch was heard to click, the door of the carriage to open and close, and then the vehicle began to move. Nighthawk took two quick steps in the direction of the gate. “I am going to follow the carriage, colonel,” he whispered. “I have been waiting here to do so. I will tell you more another time. Give my respects to General Mohun, and tell him I am on his business!” With which words Nighthawk glided into the darkness--passed through the gate without sound from the latch--and running noiselessly, disappeared on the track of the carriage. I gazed after him for a moment, said to myself, “well this night is to be full of incident!”--and going straight to the door in the rear of the house, passed through it, went to the door of Mr. X-----‘s room, and knocked. “Come in,” said the voice of that gentleman; and opening the door I entered. VI. THE HEART OF A STATESMAN. Mr. X----- was seated in front of an excellent coal fire, in his great armchair, near a table covered with papers, and between his lips was the eternal cigar. At sight of me he rose courteously--for he never omitted any form of politeness--and cordially shook my hand. “I am glad to see you, colonel,” he said. “Just from the army? Have a cigar.” And he extended toward me an elegant cigar-case full of Havanas, which he took from the table. I declined, informing him that I had been smoking all the evening in the sanctum of the editor of the _Examiner_. “Ah! you have been to see Daniel,” said Mr. X-----. “He is a very remarkable man. I do not approve of the course of his paper, and he has attacked me very bitterly on more than one occasion. But I bear no grudge against him. He is honest in his opinions. I admire the pluck of the man, and the splendid pith of his writings.” “My views accord with your own,” I replied. “Everybody thinks with us,” said Mr. X-----, puffing at his cigar. “It is only ignoramuses who deny this man’s courage and ability. I have never done injustice to Daniel--and I call that ‘liberal’ in myself, colonel! He has flayed me alive on three or four occasions, and it is not his fault that I am enjoying this excellent Havana.” “I read the attacks,” I said.