MY DEAR FRIEND: * * * Soon after the Yankees went into winter quarters in Warrenton, I was requested by a soldier friend to avail myself of every opportunity to obtain and transmit information that might be of service to our scouts and guerrillas, and this of course I was most willing to do. Our house was at that time within the lines in the day time, and beyond them at night. I walked up to Warrenton one bright but very cold morning, (the 22d of December) and as soon as I arrived was informed by a lady friend, who was also on the lookout, that she had just seen a negro, who looked like a newcomer, escorted by several officers to the provost marshal's office. I immediately concluded that he was bearer of some tidings, most probably from "Mosby's Confederacy," and that I must know what it might be, but how could I accomplish it? A sentinel was placed always before the office. I had my purse with me. I fell into conversation with him. I offered him so much to let me pass into the basement of the house on pretense of wishing to transact some business with the negroes who occupied it. He accepted it, and I went--not into the room which the negroes occupied, but into the one adjoining it--a place very damp and dark, where I could hear, but not be seen, and suiting my purpose admirably, as it was immediately under the office. I listened; heard the negro questioned and heard him answer that he could and would guide a force to Mosby's headquarters, to the houses where he knew many of his men boarded, to the place where the command had stored a quantity of corn. About the corn they seemed to care little, but oh! to catch Mosby,--they waxed warm at the thought--they talked long and loudly (all for my convenience, no doubt) and the result of the consultation was a plan to go "riding on a raid" with the "reliable contraband" acting as guide--to go that very night if certain reinforcements arrived in time, or should they fail to do so, the next night. I had heard enough. I came out of my cell, walked through town to a picket post, with the remaining contents of my purse bribed the faithful soldier of the Union to let me pass, then walked two miles to a neighbor's where I thought I could get a horse, which was most gladly furnished me when my errand was made known. By this time it was late in the afternoon; it had been turning colder all day, and was now intensely cold with a blustering wind, the sky covered with moving masses of black clouds. My friends wrapped me up as best they could. I mounted and rode three miles to a neighbor's house, where I took a little boy up behind me for escort. My object now was to ride in what seemed the right direction until I met some Southern soldier to whom I could impart the information I gathered, and commission him to convey it to those whom it most nearly concerned. I rode on for miles--the country becoming entirely new to me--the cold increasing--the darkness deepening--the wind rising higher and higher.