He read it with an air of decided ill-humor. Then throwing it upon his
desk, burst into a laugh.

"Well, Surry," he said, "who is right and who is wrong, now? Read
that!"

And he pointed to the note, which I opened and read. It was in a
delicate female hand, and ran as follows:--

"General Stuart will pardon the attempt his captive is about to make,
to effect her escape. He made himself quite charming in their brief
interview, but liberty is sweet. Finding a friend unexpectedly in this
quarter of the world, I have made every arrangement with him; he is a
great master of disguises, and, though the travelling costume which I
shall adopt will make me look hideous, I hope it will enable me, before
sunrise, to pass a private ford, known to my friend alone, and reach
the opposite bank of the Rappahannock.

"Farewell, my dear general. If all the rebels were like yourself, I
might change my politics. I have but one other friend in your
army--Colonel Mohun, of the cavalry. Present my regards to him, and say
that _we will meet again_."

That was all. I raised my eyes from the paper, and looked at the
general with stupefaction.

"Then that 'old woman' was the lady?"

"Precisely."