He held the envelope to the light, but there was no name or address on it. He tore off the end and in extracting the contents two papers slipped out and fell on the ground. Masterson picked them up and after a glance waved them triumphantly, while Delaven looked puzzled over the slip in his hands. It was only something about military matters,--the furthest thing possible from a billet-doux. "I thought myself it was the weightiest one ever launched by Cupid," he remarked as he shook his head over the mystery. But Masterson thrust the papers into McVeigh's hands. "Your commission and instructions, Colonel!" he said, jubilantly. "What a run of luck. See if they are all right." "Every one of them," and in a moment the Judge and Masterson were shaking hands with him, while Delaven stood apart and stared. He was glad they were having so much joy to themselves, but could not see why he should be choked to obtain it for them. "Understand one thing," said Masterson, when the congratulations were over; "those papers were thrown from that balcony to Dr. Delaven by mistake. The man they were meant for tried to strangle the doctor and has escaped, but the man who escaped, Colonel, was evidently only a messenger, and the real culprit, the traitor, is in your house now, and reached the balcony through that corridor door!" The wind blew Margeret's lamp out, leaving them, for an instant, in darkness, but she entered the hall, turned up the light there so that it shone across the veranda and down the steps; then she lit the lamp in the library and went softly up the stairs and out of sight. "Come into the library," suggested McVeigh. "You are right, Phil, there is only one thing to be done in the face of such evidence By Jove! It seems incredible. I would have fought for Jack Monroe, sworn by him, and after all--" A leisurely step sounded on the stairs and Monroe descended. He wore no coat or vest and was evidently prepared for bed when disturbed. "What's all the row about?" he asked, yawning. "Oh, are you in it, Colonel?" There was a slight pause before McVeigh said: "Captain Monroe, the row is over for the present, since your confederate has escaped." "My--confederate?" He glanced in inquiry from one to the other, but could see no friendliness in their faces. Delaven looked as puzzled as himself, but the other three regarded him coldly. He tossed his half finished cigar out of the door, and seemed to grow taller, as he turned toward them again. "May I ask in what way I am linked with a confederacy." "In using your parole to gain knowledge of our army for the use of the Federal government," answered McVeigh, bluntly. Monroe made a step forward, but halted, drew a long breath, and thrust his uninjured hand into his pocket, as if to hamper its aggressive tendencies.