Who goes there? : $b The story of a spy in the Civil WarBenson, B. K. (Blackwood Ketcham)
History
Who goes there? : $b The story of a spy in the Civil War
Benson, B. K. (Blackwood Ketcham)
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
"Yet the writing itself accounts for that. On May twenty-third you
began. You tell us that you had just returned from home, where you had
been on furlough. You left your former diary, if you had kept one, at
home. You end on May twenty-seventh, just a few days ago."
"My name is Jones Berwick," I said.
"By the by, let me see that book a moment."
I handed it to him.
"No; no imprint, or else it has been torn out," he said; "I wanted to
see who printed it."
"What would that have shown?"
"Well, I expected to find that it was printed in Richmond, or perhaps
Charleston; it would have proved nothing, however."
"My name is Jones Berwick, Doctor."
"Well, so be it! We must please the children. I shall make inquiries for
the regiment and company from which Jones Berwick is missing. Now do you
go to bed and go to sleep."
* * * * *
The next morning I borrowed the doctor's shaving appliances.
The last feeble vestige of doubt now vanished forever. The face I saw in
the glass was not my face. It was the face of a man at least ten years
older. Needless to describe it, if I could.
After I had completed the labour,--a perilous and painful duty,--I made
a different appearance, and felt better, not only on account of the
physical change, but also, I suppose, because my mind was now settled
upon myself as a volunteer soldier.
Dr. Frost had told me that the two Bellots were coming to see me;
Captain Haskell had asked them to make the acquaintance of a man who
would probably join their company. I begged the doctor to give them no
hint of the truth. He replied that it would be difficult to keep them in
the dark, for they wouldn't see why a man, already wearing uniform,
should offer himself as a member of Company H.
"I think we'd better take them into our conspiracy," said he.
To this I made strong objection. I would take no such risk, "If I had
any money," I said, "I should certainly buy other clothing."
"Well, does the wind sit there?" said he; "you have money; lots of it."
"Where?"
"There was money in your pocket when you were brought to me; besides,
the government gives a bounty of fifty dollars to every volunteer. Your
bounty will purchase clothing, if you are determined to squander your
estate. Captain Haskell would be able to secure you what you want; your
bounty is good for it."
"But I have no right to the bounty," said I.
"Fact!" said he; "you see how I fell into the trap? I was thinking, for
the moment, from your standpoint, and you turned the tables on me. Yes;
you have already received the bounty; maybe you haven't yet spent it,
though. I'll look up the contents of your pockets; I hope nothing's
been lost."
He rummaged in a chest and brought out a knife and a pencil, as well as
a leather purse, which proved to contain thirty dollars in Confederate
notes, a ten-dollar note of the bank of Hamburg, South Carolina, and
more than four dollars in silver.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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