It did not take the colored girl long to find the wrap, and, escorted by Baker, Nancy ran down the steps and entered the waiting hack. They drove in absolute silence, Nancy gazing straight before her with brooding eyes. Never had he escorted so quiet a prisoner, and Baker was glad when they reached the War Department. He wasted no time, but took her at once to the private office of the Secretary of War. "Here is Miss Newton, Mr. Secretary," he announced, signing to Nancy to enter the room first. "To what do I owe my arrest, Secretary Stanton?" asked Nancy, walking quietly up to his desk. Stanton glanced piercingly at her. Her proud, cold beauty and distinguished appearance stirred a momentary feeling of admiration in the "Iron Secretary's" breast. He half rose, then sank again into his chair. "Be seated," he directed shortly. "Baker, close that door." He took off his spectacles, wiped them carefully, then replaced them am his nose. "You asked me?" "Why I am arrested?" steadily. "Isn't that an unnecessary question?" "No. I am not a mind reader." "You need not strain your imagination. Do you know Major George Pegram, of the --th Virginia Cavalry?" "I do. He is my cousin." "He _was_." Stanton stopped and eyed Nancy intently; but she sat as if carved from stone. Not by cry or sign did she betray the shock his words gave her. "Major Pegram was killed last Wednesday, when trying to get through our lines about Winchester." "Poor fellow!" Nancy's tone was keyed to express simply natural sorrow and regret. "I am sure his death became him." Stanton looked baffled, as his bomb shell exploded without apparent effect. Was there no vulnerable spot in her armor of iron self-control? After a moment he continued his examination. "Your cousin was killed by Captain Lloyd, of the Secret Service, who took from his dead body the cipher despatch which you secured under the noses of a room full of my officers at Winchester." He paused to let the meaning of his words sink in. Nancy thought for a second; then shook her head. "I fail to recall any such incident." "You have a poor memory," retorted Stanton. "Possibly it will be improved when I show you the despatch in your handwriting." Nancy's face never altered. "May I see the despatch?" The Secretary paid no attention to her question. "There is no use denying it any longer, Miss Newton. I know you are a rebel spy." "Indeed. And may I ask on what grounds you base so serious a charge?" "No, madam, you may not. That will come out at your trial. I had you brought here that I might find out how you secured the key to our secret cipher code." Nancy started to reply, when the door opened, and the President, followed by Senator Warren, walked quietly in. "Good evening, Miss Nancy." The President bowed gravely to her. "Keep your seat. Now, Stanton, what's all this about?" And he threw himself into a vacant chair.