My expressed anxiety for his safety, and pretended impression that he was on some dangerous raid, led Captain DeLacy to assure me that he was with Luce, and to tell me what forces Luce had with him, but no more about his future movements than I had already gathered, which amounted to but little beyond a clue to the meaning of General Middleworth's movement, which I had witnessed that afternoon. I questioned as closely as I dared, but elicited nothing further. My shrewdest efforts were a failure. I saw that he either had not been informed of the object of the campaign, or felt bound not to reveal it even to one whom he held as dear as he did Salome. CHAPTER XII. While conversing with Captain DeLacy, I had become as familiar with the interior of the tent as I could by the light of one inferior candle and the use of my eyes. There seemed nothing there to invite investigation. Even after Captain DeLacy had reluctantly left me, a closer inspection revealed nothing more promising. I sat on a camp stool, in a corner; near was a pile of blankets; a rough camp chair stood between me and the bed; a bayonet stuck in the ground did duty for a candlestick, and on an empty wooden box near me lay a paper-covered book. I had just had time to run a hasty glance through the book, when the fly was raised and an officer entered. As was only natural, he started when he saw me, then lifted his hat with a half-spoken apology, tossed a newspaper carelessly on the bed, threw his overcoat over the chair and went out again. I recognized him instantly as General Dare. His actions and looks struck me as those of a man who felt at odds with the world and who was nursing a grievance, but I was too deeply concerned about my own affairs to be more than casually impressed with what I learned afterwards was the case. It is a strange fact that in times of most intense suffering, deadly peril and deepest thought, the eye will be attracted by the most trivial objects. While I anxiously pondered my next move, my eye mechanically followed in and out the fantastically curved line made by the shadows cast by the pile of blankets, then by the edge of the coat cape as it trailed along the floor. I had followed it almost to the end when my gaze was arrested by a spot of color differing from the rest. With a start, I realized that I was looking at a flat, long book. I could not tell then and I cannot tell now whether it fell from the overcoat or was lying there when I entered, but I do not see how it could have been there at first and escaped my observation. I determined at once to see the contents of that book. There was not one instant to be lost. I well knew that even then some one might be standing at the entrance and that the Captain would return at any moment. But examine that book I must, even at the risk of surprise, detection and death. It was the most critical moment I had yet encountered. I had to think and act together.