I see you know something
about the affair, and are anxious to know every thing. I will tell you
the whole truth; but it will be best to let me do it in my own way."
"Do so, then," said Mohun, fixing his eyes more intently upon the spy.
Swartz was silent again for more than a minute, gazing on the floor.
Then he raised his head, passed his red handkerchief over his brow, and
said:--
"To begin at the beginning, general. At the time you speak of,
December, 1856, I was a small landholder in Dinwiddie, and made my
living by carting vegetables and garden-truck to Petersburg. Well, one
morning in winter--you remind me that it was the thirteenth of
December,--I set out, as usual, in my cart drawn by an old mule, with a
good load on board, to go by way of Monk's Neck. I had not gone two
miles, however, when passing through a lonely piece of woods on the
bank of the river, I heard a strange cry in the brush. It was the most
startling you can think of, and made my heart stop beating. I jumped
down from my cart, left it standing in the narrow road, and went to the
spot. It was a strange sight I saw. On the bank of the river, I saw a
woman lying drenched with water, and half-dead. She was richly dressed,
and of very great beauty--but I never saw any human face so pale, or
clothes more torn and draggled.
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