Would to God that I had entered the army, old as I am, and that at least I could hope for a death of honor, in arms for Virginia!” VII. SECRET SERVICE. The statesman leaned back in his great chair, and was silent. At the same moment a tap was heard at the door; it opened noiselessly, and Nighthawk glided into the apartment. Under his cloak I saw the gray uniform of a Confederate soldier; in his hand he carried a letter. Nighthawk saluted Mr. X----- and myself with benignant respect. His quick eye, however, had caught the gloomy and agitated expression of the statesman’s countenance, and he was silent. “Well,” said Mr. X-----, raising his head, with a deep sigh. Then passing his hand over his face, he seemed to brush away all emotion. When he again looked up, his face was as calm and unmoved as at the commencement of our interview. “You see I begin a new scene in this comedy,” he said to me in a low tone. And turning to Nighthawk, he said:-- “Well, you followed that agreeable person?” “Yes, sir,” said Nighthawk, with great respect. “She turned out to be the character you supposed? Speak before Colonel Surry.” Nighthawk bowed. “I never had any doubt of her character, sir,” he said. “You will remember that she called on you a week ago, announcing that she was a spy, who had lately visited the Federal lines and Washington. You described her to me, and informed me that you had given her another appointment for to-night; when I assured you that I knew her; she was an enemy, who had come as a spy upon _us_; and you directed me to be here to-night, and follow her, after your interview.” “Well,” said Mr. X-----, quietly, “you followed her!” “Yes, sir. On leaving you, after making her pretended report of affairs in Washington, she got into her carriage, and the driver started rapidly, going up Capitol and Grace streets. I followed on foot, and had to run--but I am used to that, sir. The carriage stopped at a house in the upper part of the city--a Mr. Blocque’s; the lady got out, telling the driver to wait, and went into the house, where she staid for about half an hour. She then came out--I was in the shadow of a tree, not ten yards from the spot, and as she got into the carriage, I could see that she held in her hand a letter. As the driver closed the door, she said, ‘Take me to the flag-of-truce bureau, on Ninth Street, next door to the war office.’ The driver mounted his box, and set off--and crossing the street, I commenced running to get a-head. In this I succeeded, and reached the bureau five minutes before the carriage. “Well, sir, I hastened up stairs, and went into the bureau, where three or four clerks were examining the letters left to be sent by the flag-of-truce boat to-morrow. They were laughing and jesting as they read aloud the odd letters from the Libby and other prisons--some of which, I assure you, were very amusing, sir--when the lady’s footsteps were heard upon the stairs, and she came in, smiling.