“You have lately arrived from Virginia, I understand?”

“A few days since, sir—­from a brief sojourn in the vicinity of Richmond.”

“And yesterday received a communication from that quarter?”

“I did.  A letter from an intimate acquaintance.”

“My office will excuse me from an imputation of inquisitiveness.  May I see that letter?”

“Excuse me, sir.  Its contents are of a private and delicate nature, and intended only for my own perusal.”

“It is because its contents are of that nature that I am constrained to ask you for it.  Pardon me, Mr. Wayne; but to be brief and frank you, I must either receive that communication by your good will, or call in my officers, and institute a search.  I am sure you will not make my duty 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.

Dear Arthur:  This will be handed to you by a sure hand.  Communicate freely with the bearer—­he can be trusted.  The arms can be safely shipped as he represents, and you will therefore send them on at once.  Your last communication was of great service to the cause, and, although I would be glad to have you with us, the President thinks you are too valuable, for the present, where you are.  When you come, the commission will be ready for you.  Yours truly,

    Beverly Weems, Capt.  C.S.A.

“Are you satisfied?” inquired Arthur, after the marshal had silently concluded his examination of the document.

“Perfectly satisfied,” replied the other, placing the letter in his pocket.  “Mr. Wayne, it is my duty to arrest you.”