"I believe the friend of Mac is an officer in a battalion also acting as the body-guard of Fremont." "What battalion is that?" asked Price. "I believe they are called the Benton cadets." "Ah! yes. I am expecting a messenger here every moment, with the description of all the officers attached to Fremont, and among them is a captain belonging to the cadets, whom I am anxious to meet." "What is his name?" asked Hayward. "His name is _Harry Hayward_! senior captain of the battalion." "Why do you wish to meet him more than any other officer?" "Because I met him once face to face, and he taunted me!" "Did he know you, general?" "No, he did not dream who I was." "Where did you meet him?" "It was at a farm-house, beyond Warsaw. I was there in disguise. This captain rode up and asked for a cup of water, and as I was standing at the well, I gave it to him. I asked the strength of the army, and he replied that they were much stronger than there was any occasion for. I asked him if he thought Price would not fight, and he replied that the rebel army might possibly be induced to meet us if they had a decent general, but with such a d--d cowardly old fool as Price for their leader, we should never catch them." "Would you know him again if you should meet him?" asked Hayward, with apparent indifference. "I do not think that I should. He had been riding during the whole of that day, and was so completely covered with dust that his features were not visible. But when one of my men returns, he will have his exact description. I instructed him to be particular about this officer." "How did you ascertain who he was, at the time you met him?" "While I was conversing with him, the adjutant rode up and handed him a letter. He opened it and threw the envelope on the ground. I picked it up, and thus learned who he was." The remaining portion of the time, until nine o'clock in the evening, was passed in ordinary conversation. Hayward did not care to show himself about camp. He well knew that the guard-house held two prisoners, bound and gagged by his order, and accused of being spies from the federals, who were in reality rebel spies, and true to their cause. He knew they had both, or at least one of them, seen him, and would recognize him at once. He had his own description in his pocket, written by one of them, which had by the merest chance been prevented from falling into the hands of Price. However, time passed on, and nothing like suspicion was manifested, that Hayward was not just what he represented himself. Nine o'clock came. The countersign was out, which the general readily gave to Hayward. Tattoo had scarcely ceased sounding, when a sergeant appeared at the tent-entrance and said: "General, one of the prisoners accused of being a spy, wishes to see you. He says his information is of vast importance." "I know of no person charged with being a spy whom we have as prisoner! But it is possible some of the morning prowlers have been caught."