We are coming, Father Abra'am, three hundred thousand more, From Mississippi's winding stream and from New England's shore; We leave our ploughs and workshops, our wives and children dear, With hearts too full for utterance, with but a silent tear; We dare not look behind us, but steadfastly before: We are coming, Father Abra'am, three hundred thousand more. You have called us, and we're coming, by Richmond's bloody tide To lay us down, for Freedom's sake, our brothers' bones beside; Or from foul treason's savage grasp to wrench the murderous blade, And in the face of foreign foes its fragments to parade. Six hundred thousand loyal men and true have gone before; We are coming, Father Abra'am, three hundred thousand more. Goddard promptly joined in the singing with others in the crowd which had collected. Suddenly a heavy hand fell on his shoulder, and facing about he found Lloyd standing behind him. "Come out of this crowd," said the latter, sternly. In silence the two men walked up the Avenue to Third Street, and Lloyd led his companion into that quieter thoroughfare. Looking to see that no one was near enough to hear what he said, he turned savagely on Goddard. "I should arrest you at once." Goddard stared blankly at Lloyd, unable to believe his ears. "On what charge?" he demanded, hotly. "Aiding and abetting the enemy." Goddard's face cleared. "You are crazy," he remarked, tersely. "Am I? We shall see. I warned you Nancy Newton was a spy." Goddard's eyes snapped angrily, and his color rose. "Suppose we leave Miss Newton's name out of the discussion," he said, haughtily; then, in a more friendly tone: "Here I am, happy and carefree, and you appear, like 'Banquo's ghost,' and shout your silly theories, which you admit you can't prove, into my ears." "My theories do hold water," was the stern reply. "Better for you, you blockhead, if they didn't." Goddard's face went white. "By heavens! I allow no one to address me in that way. If it wasn't for our long friendship...."; his clenched hands finished the sentence. "It is owing to our old friendship that I haven't had you arrested, Bob," Lloyd spoke more quietly, realizing he had gone a step too far. "Then explain what your insinuations mean." "I will. Half an hour ago you were in front of Old Capitol Prison"--Goddard nodded assent--"helping the sentry make that woman behave herself. Well, it was all a plant." "A plant?" "Yes. While you and the sentry were engaged with that woman, Nancy Newton was signaling from an opposite doorway to another prisoner in the same row." Goddard gazed incredulously at Lloyd. "How do you know?"