locked us in to prevent intrusion. The boys soon fell asleep, but I
passed the night in listening to the ceaseless noises outside.

Morning found the boat at Fortress Monroe, whence, after a short
delay, she proceeded to Newport News.

Under pretence of guarding well the "female rebel," the good clerk
escorted us to the officers' quarters. Here my pass was examined
closely; many questions were asked and answered. Still, the result
seemed doubtful; means of transportation were wanting. The colonel in
command was inclined to be suspicious and sternly unsympathetic. While
standing tremblingly before those whose adverse decision would, I
knew, crush all my hopes, one of the officers espied around my neck a
slender black chain, and demanded to know what it held. Instantly hope
returned: I drew from my bosom a small case enclosing the Masonic
document before mentioned. As at my mother's house, it was examined
and returned without comment. An hour later, however, a plentiful
repast was set before us, after which a covered ambulance appeared, in
which was placed for my comfort the only arm-chair the camp contained.
Soon, attended by an officer and a guard of Federal soldiers, our
little party entered upon the last stage of our journey to the
Confederate lines.

The route lay amid scenes of desolation sadder than anything I had
ever dreamed of. Fields, which a few short weeks before had given
promise of a rich harvest, were laid waste. Here and there tiny
columns of smoke arose from the smouldering ruins of once happy homes.
The heat and dust were almost insufferable, but as the sun declined a
cool breeze sprang up, and later a flood of moonlight clothed the
landscape with a mystical beauty. It shone coldly on the few deserted