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I came away; returned as quickly as possible; and here is the letter, sir." With which words Nighthawk drew his hand from under his cloak, and presented the letter to Mr. X , who had listened in silence to his narrative. MR. X took the letter, broke the seal, and ran his eye over the contents.
"You are to wait here until twelve," he said to the driver of the nighthawk. "Don't go far away." Bronson and the boy walked to an oyster-saloon that made one of the line of houses facing the gates of the prison on the opposite side of the street, and seated themselves at one of the tables from which Bronson could see out towards the northern entrance of the jail.
"Why don't you look glad when you see me come in?" Joel Mazarine remarked to her suddenly the day before. "If you'd had some husbands, you might have reason for bein' the statue and the dummy you are. Am I a drunkard? Am I a thief? Am I a nighthawk? Do I go off lookin' for other women? Don't I keep the commandments? Ain't you got a home here as good as any in the land?
The name of this personage had been revealed by Nighthawk. Swartz, the secret agent, blockade-runner, and "best spy in the Federal army" was before me. A glance at the woman revealed no change in her appearance. Before me was the same lithe and graceful figure, clad as before in a gray dress. I saw the same snow-white cheeks, red lips, and large eyes burning with a latent fire.
Alibi took a bucket, and went out as though to seek the spring. When he had gone a few paces, however, he turned to the right and disappeared behind the house, toward the opposite window, which was open. Nighthawk rose, went to the door, and caught Mr. Alibi eavesdropping the result of which was that the penguin hastily moved off, muttering. In a minute he had shambled along and disappeared.
Nighthawk moved with the stealthy and gliding step of a wildcat. I could see the man was a born scout; intended by nature for the calling he had adopted secret service. He scarcely uttered a word; when he did, it was in tones so low that they were lost in the whisper of the wind, amid the great trailing vines depending from the trees, and I was compelled to lean my ear close to catch the words.
Now, he reappeared in the city of Richmond, with an excellent understanding, it was evident, between himself and Mr. Our greeting was cordial, and indeed I never had classed Nighthawk among professional spies. General Stuart assured me one day, that he invariably refused all reward; and his profound, almost romantic devotion to Mohun, had deeply impressed me.
Nighthawk must dash himself to pieces upon the ground, right where Chirpy Cricket crouched and trembled, he had spread his wings and checked his fall. It was the air, rushing through his wing-feathers with great force, that made the queer, hollow sound. That was why Mr. Nighthawk claimed that he made the booming on a wind instrument.
I was right. Twenty paces more I ran, and ahead of me, from the elms, came a sound. Clearly it came through the still air the eerie hoot of a nighthawk.
"Thank God!" cried Cameron, as he came up, struggling with his sobbing breath. "You have got the beast." "Yes, I have got him," said Raven, with his hand to his side, "but I guess he has got me too. And " he paused. His eye fell upon his horse lying upon his side and feebly kicking "ah, I fear he has got you as well, Nighthawk, old boy."
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