more unpleasant than necessary."

Arthur paused awhile. He was conscious that it would be impossible for
him to avoid complying with the marshal's request, and yet it was most
annoying to be obliged to make a third party cognizant of the facts
contained in Beverly's epistle.

"I have no desire to oppose you in the performance of your functions,"
he finally replied, "but really there are very particular reasons why
the contents of this letter should not be made public."

A very faint indication of a smile passed over the marshal's serious
face; Arthur did not observe it, but continued:

"I will hand you the letter, for I perceive there has been some mistake
and misapprehension which of course it is your duty to clear up. But you
must promise me that, when your perusal of it shall have satisfied you
that its nature is strictly private, and not offensive to the law, you
will return it me and preserve an inviolable secrecy as to its
contents."

"When I shall be satisfied on that score, I will do as you desire."

Arthur handed him the letter, somewhat to the other's surprise, for he
had certainly been watching for an attempt at its destruction, or at
least was prepared for prevarication and stratagem. He took the paper
from its envelope and read it carefully. It was in the following words:

Richmond, _May_ --, 1861.