Although he knew that something important was transpiring, and that the newcomer was a man of rank, Thorne never turned his head. At whatever cost, he realised he must get the telegram off, and from the look of things it appeared that his only chance was then and there. He did not care if the President of the Confederate States of America were there in person, his mind and soul were on the order. He was frantically calling the station he wanted, the one indicated by “Plan 3,” and he had the doctored despatch, to which he had pasted the Secretary’s signature spread out on the table before him. “What’s all this about refusing to send out Miss Mitford’s telegram!” began General Randolph peremptorily. “Some of your work, I understand, Mr. Arrelsford.” “General!” cried Arrelsford breathlessly. “They have arrested me. It is a conspiracy——” He turned toward Thorne. “Stop that man, for God’s sake stop him before it’s too late!” At this juncture, Caroline Mitford turned from the room and joined old Martha in the hall, and disappeared. She had only come back with the General to punish Arrelsford, but she did not care to have her precious despatch made the subject of discussion before so many people. “Stop him!” exclaimed the General. “What do you mean?” It was evident that the despatch was not to go out then. Thorne had not succeeded in getting an answer to his signal. He left the key, rose, and saluted. “He means me, sir,” he said. “He’s got an idea some despatch I’m sending out is a trick of the Yankees.” “It is a conspiracy!” cried Arrelsford. “He is an impostor——” “Why, the man must have gone crazy, General,” said Thorne coolly, holding his position by the table and listening with all his ears for the return signal. “I came here on a case for——” expostulated Arrelsford. “Wait!” said General Randolph. “I will soon get at the bottom of this. What was he doing when you came in, Sergeant?” he asked of the non-commissioned officer in charge of the guard. “He was firing on the Captain, sir,” answered the Sergeant saluting. “He was sending out a false order to weaken our lines at Cemetery Hill, and I—ah—Miss Varney, she was here. She saw it all,” explained Arrelsford. “Miss Varney!” exclaimed the General. “Yes, sir.” “The General’s daughter?” “Yes, sir.” “And what was she doing here?” “She came to see for herself whether this man was guilty or not; whether he was a spy or a traitor.” “Is this some personal matter of yours, Mr. Arrelsford?” asked the General suspiciously. “He was a visitor at her house and I wanted her to know.” “Where is she now? Where is Miss Varney?” asked Randolph impatiently. “She must be out there on the balcony,” answered Arrelsford. “I beg you to send for her, sir.” “Sergeant,” said General Randolph, “step out on the balcony. Present my compliments to Miss Varney, and ask her to come in at once.” In a moment the Sergeant returned. “There is no one there, sir,” he replied saluting.