The Confederate President reached the spot where his wife's party had pitched its tent after nightfall. During the evening it was decided that, to avoid discovery, he would leave the party on the following day and thenceforward would proceed westward alone. About daylight the travelers were awakened by firing across a nearby stream, and Mr. Davis thinking it an attack from marauders remarked to his wife that he hoped he still had enough influence with the Southern people to prevent her robbery and stepped out of the tent. Almost immediately he returned saying it was not marauders but Federal soldiers. Mrs. Davis, frantic with fright, begged him to fly. In the darkness of the tent he picked up a light rain coat, which he supposed to be his own but which belonged to his wife, and she threw a shawl around his shoulders. His horse stood saddled by the roadside and he ran toward it, but before he could reach it a trooper interposed and with leveled carbine bade him surrender. Intending to place his hand under the foot of the soldier and topple him out of the saddle he gave a defiant answer and rushed forward. Mrs. Davis, however, now interposed and Mr. Davis seeing the opportunity lost walked back to the tent, where a few moments later he surrendered to Colonel Pritchard of the Fifth Michigan Cavalry. No soldier who took part in the capture of Mr. Davis ever supposed that he attempted to disguise himself, and the story of the bonnet and the hoop-skirts is, of course, pure fiction. The picture of the illustrious captive, presented in this edition, represents him exactly as he appeared at the time of his capture, when divested of the shawl and raglan, which in no way served to conceal his identity, much less his sex. Despite the efforts of Colonel Pritchard to spare Mr. Davis all indignities, many insults were heaped upon him enroute to Macon. Once arrived at that point he was furnished with a comfortable suite of rooms and after a time General Wilson sought an interview, during the course of which Mr. Davis first learned that he was accused of complicity in the assassination of President Lincoln, and of Andrew Johnson's proclamation offering $100,000 reward for his apprehension. Those who knew Mr. Davis will remember him best by his habitual expression of calm dignity and benign gentleness. One would imagine that scorn or contempt could never disturb that face, but General Wilson says that when he imparted the above information that his lips curved in contempt, that his brows were knitted and that there was a deep gleam of anger in his eyes which, however, soon softened away as he remarked, with a half rueful smile, that there was at least one man in the United States who knew that charge to be false. General Wilson, of course, asked who it was, and Mr. Davis replied, "The author of the proclamation himself, for he, at least, knows that of the two I would have preferred Lincoln as president."