“Obediently yours,

“JONES.”

“Did you get to him without trouble?” Kate asked, keenly, disappointed by the result of all this strategy.

“I made them believe I was on hospital business.  I showed them a large official envelope, and they let me go up.  Jones told me to tell you that he would see you there in the parlor if you would come; that he is unable to leave the house, or he would come to see you.”

“Can you take me there now?”

“I have four hours of my leave still.  It does not expire until two o’clock.”

“Then we will go at once.  Will you call a carriage?”

While he was gone, Kate read the note again.  She was more puzzled than ever.  The man wrote as if he had no idea that Jack was not easily traceable, yet all the Spragues’ money and influence had been spent in vain.  He expected her.  Where could her father be?  He wrote as though he had no idea that he had been virtually a prisoner.  When she reached the house, the servant made no difficulty in admitting her.  Elkins remained outside in the vehicle, with an admonition from Kate to remain unseen unless she called him.  Jones, the shadow of the burly soldier we saw in the famous escape, was seated in a deep, reclining chair, and, as Kate entered, rose feebly.

“Pray, don’t rise, don’t disturb yourself in the least.  I will sit here near you, and we can talk, if it won’t make you ill.”

“No.  It isn’t talking that troubles me—­but never mind that.  Your note has pulled me down a good deal.  I was given to understand that the boys were home and all right.”

“The boys?”

“Jack and young Perley.”

“Who gave you—­who told you that?”

“Your father.  He is the only person I have talked with since I got my wits back.”

Kate drew back with a shuddering horror.

“Are you quite sure, Mr.—­Mr. Jones that my father told you that?”

“Perfectly certain.  Do you suppose that I would not have taken measures to find out where my own—­I mean where friends were?  These boys saved me from prison once and from a death nearly as dreadful as Libby.  Could I be indifferent to them?”

“But why should papa tell you they were safe, when—­when our hearts have been tortured?  Ah!  I see.  He wanted to spare you the anxiety.  Ah! yes.  He knew that you would fret and worry, and that you could not recover under the strain.”  Kate’s heart swelled with a triumphant revulsion.  She had vilely suspected without cause.  She must now do justice.  Jones eyed her pensively, holding his head with both his hands.

“Nothing has been heard of the boys since when?”

“Nothing directly since the escape from Richmond.  Miss Sprague brought that news, and about the same time a paragraph in the Herald announced that prisoners from Richmond had reached the Union lines on the Warrick.”

“When was that?”