And Nighthawk proceeded to explain. It was an exceedingly curious explanation. Amanda had first demanded of him a statement of all the facts. He had thereupon informed her of the appointment which he had made with Swartz in Richmond, to meet him three days afterward at the house of Alibi--of his detention by the pickets, so that he had been unable to keep the appointment--Alibi’s statement when he saw him, that Swartz had not been to his house--and Swartz’s confinement in the lonely house, ending in his murder by Darke. That was all he knew, he said--the paper was gone--where was it? “At Mr. Alibi’s,” Amanda had replied; “I only asked you this, Mr. Nighthawk, to satisfy myself that my visions were true. I _saw_ poor Mr. Swartz go to Mr. Alibi’s, and ask for you, on the day you appointed. When he was told that you had not come, he seemed very low-spirited, and told Mr. Alibi that he _must_ see you, to give you a paper. His life was threatened, he said, on account of that paper. An officer and a lady had discovered that he had that paper--it was as much as his life was worth to keep it on his person--if Mr. Alibi would take it, and for old times’ sake, put it away until _he_ came back, he would pay him as much gold as he could hold in both hands. Then he gave the paper to Mr. Alibi, and went away, telling him to say nothing of it.” “I then asked her,” continued Nighthawk, “where the paper could be found. She replied that Alibi always carried it on his person. That was a few days ago. I am going to-night to see him, and recover the paper.” I had listened to this narrative with strange interest. This singular woman was a curious problem. Were her _visions_ really such as she described them? Or did she only “put this and that together,” as the phrase is, and by her marvellous acumen, sharpened possibly by disease, arrive at results which defied the most penetrating glance of the sane? I knew not--but reflecting often upon this subject since, have finally come to the latter conclusion, as the more philosophic of the two. Epilepsy is insanity of mind and body; and one of the most infallible characteristics of insanity is cunning--which is only another word for diseased and abnormal activity of brain. Amanda arrived at strange results, but I think she attained them by disease. Her acumen in this affair could be thus explained, almost wholly. As to the truth of the explanation, I felt a singular presentiment that it was correct. “Well, that is curious enough,” I said, “and I wish you success, Nighthawk. What of our other female friend--the fair lady you arrested in Richmond?” “She is safe enough, colonel, and I don’t think she will trouble us soon.” “I am glad of it. I think her the more dangerous of _the two_.” “And I agree with you.” “When did you see Darke, last?” “I have not met him for three months.” “He can not be dead?” “He may be wounded.” “And Mohun--is he at his head-quarters?” Nighthawk smiled.