IN CLOSE CONFINEMENT
Stanton's face hardened, and he wheeled on Nancy.
"Where is that paper?" he demanded curtly.
"I do not know."
The Secretary's eyes were the first to fall before the girl's steady
gaze.
"I have wasted quite enough time with you," he snapped. "Baker, conduct
Miss Newton to Old Capitol Prison, and have her placed in close
confinement."
"Wait." Senator Warren rose. "Your pardon, Mr. Secretary; but so far
you have produced no direct evidence to prove your charge against Miss
Newton. Therefore, I demand her immediate release."
"It is impossible to grant your request. Miss Newton is too dangerous a
character to leave at large. She will have an opportunity to prove her
innocence of the charges against her before a military commission."
"Charges?" said Nancy inquiringly, as she picked up her wrap in
obedience to a sign from Baker. "Charges, did you say, Mr. Secretary?
Your threats multiply with lightning rapidity."
"Charges, madam," sternly, "as a rebel spy, and, as such, conniving at
the death of Captain Lloyd and stealing the paper which proves your
guilt."
"It is monstrous!" cried Nancy hotly. "Symonds' own words prove Captain
Lloyd died naturally in his bed. As to the paper, I have repeatedly
told you I know nothing of it. It may be simply a fabrication of this
man's excited imagination. You have only his word against mine that it
ever existed."
"Very true, madam; but I prefer to take his word." Stanton's tone of
overbearing finality made Nancy clench her hands with rage. She turned
appealingly to Lincoln.
"Mr. President, in the name of justice I ask for fair play."
Lincoln unlocked his big, bony hands, brought his chair softly down on
its four legs, and rose awkwardly.
"There is much to be explained, Miss Nancy; and Secretary Stanton is
right in the stand he is taking," he said unwillingly. How gladly would
he have spoken otherwise! "I cannot interfere." Nancy blanched, and bit
her lips to hide their trembling. Nothing escaped the President, and
his worn, unlovely face grew tender. "I give you my word, you shall
have a fair and impartial trial. Warren, go with Baker and see what you
can do to soften Miss Nancy's imprisonment."
"Thanks, Mr. President." But he had turned back to the desk and did not
see Nancy's half-extended hand, or hear her faltering voice. Her hand
dropped to her side, and, choking back a sob, she followed Senator
Warren and Baker out of the room.
Nancy had only a confused idea of what followed: the drive to the
provost marshal's office, his questions and cross-questions, the
signing of papers, all were but the hazy outlines of some fearful
nightmare from which she must soon awake. She was hurried from the
provost marshal's and into the carriage again. The rapid hoof beats of
the horses kept pace with the pounding of her heart.
"Here we are, Nancy." Warren touched her on the shoulder as their
carriage stopped in front of the Old Capitol Prison.
Baker sprang out, and beckoned to a soldier standing before the
doorway. Nancy followed the Secret Service officer more slowly and
paused, as the guard gathered about her, to gaze at the twinkling stars
and fill her lungs with the cold, fresh air which fanned her hot
cheeks.
"Come!" Nancy shuddered involuntarily as Baker's hand closed over her
arm in no gentle grip. "This way." And they entered a wide hall.
A number of soldiers lounged on the benches which lined the walls on
both sides. Recognizing Baker, they rose, and stood at attention.
"This way, Colonel," said the corporal of the guard. "Superintendent
Wood is still in his office." And he preceded them down the hall.
Nancy answered apathetically all the questions the superintendent shot
at her.
"Room No. 10, second floor, women's section," said the latter to an
orderly, as he closed the register and filed his papers away. "See that
clean bedding is taken there at once." The soldier saluted and hastened
out of the room. "Now, Miss Newton, follow me." He led her into a
smaller apartment where a stout woman and two colored assistants stood
waiting. "The matron has to search you. Let me know when you have
finished," he directed, and banged to the door.
Nancy submitted quietly to the ordeal. Her thoughts were elsewhere; she
hardly noticed what the others did. She was soon told to put on her
clothes, and the matron, leaving her under the watchful eyes of the
other women, stepped out of the room. In a few minutes she returned and
beckoned Nancy to the door. She found Senator Warren and the
superintendent waiting in the hall.
"I sent to your aunt for some necessary clothes for you, Nancy, and the
superintendent, here, says they will be brought to you as soon as my
messenger returns with them."
"After they have been examined by me," put in Wood gruffly. "Your
quarters are in Carrol Prison, where the women are confined."
He pointed up the dirty staircase, and Nancy, preceded by the corporal
of the guard, climbed wearily up them, and turned down a long corridor.
The corporal stopped before an open door midway down the hall, and
signed to her to enter. Senator Warren, who had accompanied her by
Wood's permission, stepped forward.
"I must perforce leave you here," he said; then, seeing the hunted look
in Nancy's weary eyes, he added pityingly: "Don't be so worried, child;
keep a brave heart. Your aunt and I will have you out of here in no
time."
Nancy turned and impulsively kissed him. "You dear, faithful friend,"
she murmured brokenly.
"There, there." The senator's own eyes were moist. He thought of his
little daughter at home under a watchful mother's care. What if she
were in prison, suspected of grave crimes? He patted Nancy's wavy hair
with tender hand.
"Senator"--her voice was so low he barely caught her halting
words--"won't you get word to me to-morrow without fail
about--about----"
"About what, child?"
"About Major Goddard's condition. I--I--must know."
Bravely and unashamed, she looked squarely at Warren. His shrewd eyes
softened as he read the story of an untold love in her blushing face.
One second more and the door slammed to; the bolt was shot, and Nancy,
with wide, curious eyes, stood gazing at her new surroundings by the
aid of a half-burnt candle. The room was small and unspeakably dirty. A
wooden cot with its straw mattress stood in the corner farthest from
the window; a broken-down wash stand with a tin basin was in another
corner, and a wooden chair without a back occupied the center of the
room.
While Nancy was taking stock of her furniture, the door was opened and
a bundle of clothes tossed unceremoniously inside. She waited until she
heard the door relocked; then took up her belongings, which were well
tumbled by the inspection they had undergone. There were some pegs in
the walls, and Nancy hung her wrap on one of them; then walked over to
the window.
Her room looked out on a court formed by the wings of the buildings. A
high platform wide enough for two men to pass each other had been
erected on the top of the fence at the back, and she caught the gleam
of the moonlight on the sentries' bayonets as it was reflected back by
the burnished steel. There was no curtain of any kind in the window.
The dirt on the window-panes was her only protection against prying
eyes. So Nancy pushed the stool over by the bed, piled her extra
clothing on the foot of the bed, and carefully blew out the candle
before undressing.
It was a relief to get her clothes off, and she sat on the edge of the
bed listening to the sentry's unceasing tramp up and down the corridor.
Suddenly the silence was broken by the sentry's call from outside:
"Post No. 1! Two o'clock, and all's well!"
As the call sounded from post to post, Nancy threw herself face down on
the hard mattress.
"Bob, Bob," she moaned, "what evil fortune led you into that room!"