“Thus he did not interfere with me when I went into the area, as I was obviously a good Union man and an employee of the post. “Such was the manner in which I secured a private interview with Colonel Mohun: we could talk without the presence of a corporal; and we soon arranged the plan for his escape. “I had determined to procure a Federal uniform, to be smuggled in to him, and an hour afterward, I left him, promising to see him again as soon as I could visit Wilmington, and return with the intended disguise. “A strange piece of good fortune aided me, or rather accomplished my purpose at once. I had scarcely returned to the sutler’s shop, and spread some blankets to sleep upon, when the officer of the day came in, and I saw at a glance that he was half intoxicated, in consequence of the large amount of brandy which he had swallowed. In a thick and husky voice he cursed the ‘stuff’ vended at the post, extolled ‘the article’ I carried, and demanded another pull at the flask. I looked at him--saw that a little more would make him dead-drunk--and all at once resolved on my plan. “This was,” continued Mr. Nighthawk, with modest simplicity, and smiling as he spoke, “to make my friend, the officer of the day, dead-drunk, and then borrow his uniform; and I succeeded. In half an hour he was maudlin. In three-quarters of an hour, drunk. Five minutes afterward he fell out of his chair, and began to snore, where he lay. “I secured the door tightly, stripped off his uniform, then my own clothing; put on his, and then replaced my own citizen’s dress over all, concealed his cap and boots beneath my overcoat, wrapped the prostrate lieutenant in my blankets for fear he would take cold, and going out, locked the door and proceeded to the quarters of the prisoners. Again the sentinel took no notice of me. I found Colonel Mohun in his ‘bunk.’ Ten minutes afterward he had replaced his gray uniform with that of the Federal lieutenant, and, watching the moment when the back of the sentinel was turned, we walked together toward the gate of the pen. “That was the moment of real danger. Outside the narrow gate another sentinel was posted, and the man might be personally acquainted with the officer of the day, or have noticed his appearance. Luckily, the guard had been relieved about an hour before--the new sentinel had not seen the officer of the day--and when Colonel Mohun put his head through the little window beside the gate, ordering ‘Open!’ the gate flew open, the sentinel presented arms as he passed, and I followed modestly--the door banging-to behind us.”[1] [Footnote 1: Fact.] XIX. THE NOTE. “Thus the colonel was out of the pen,” continued Nighthawk, smiling. “The rest was not very dangerous, unless the alarm were given. They might miss the locked-up officer--he might have been seen to go into the sutler’s shop--and I admonished Colonel Mohun, in a low tone, to proceed as rapidly as possible in a direction which I pointed out.