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Cooke, John Esten, 1830-1886

"Mohun, or, the Last Days of Lee"



THE WAY THE MONEY WENT.

I looked intently at Nighthawk. He was evidently very much in earnest.
"I am entirely disengaged, and perfectly willing to accompany you," I
said; "but where?"
Nighthawk smiled.
"You know I am a mysterious person, colonel, both by character and
profession. I fear the habit is growing on me, in spite of every
exertion I make. I predict I will end by burning my coat, for fear it
will tell some of my secrets."
"Well," I said with a smile, "keep your secret then, and lead the way.
I am ready to go far to oblige Mohun in any thing."
"I thank you, colonel, from my heart. You have only to follow me."
And Nighthawk set out at a rapid pace, through the grounds of the
capitol, toward the lower part of the city.
There was something as singular about the walk of my companion, as
about his appearance. He went at a great pace, but his progress was
entirely noiseless. You would have said that he was skimming along upon
invisible wings.
In an incredibly short time we had reached a street below the capitol,
and my companion, who had walked straight on without turning his head
to the right or the left, all at once paused before a tall and
dingy-looking house, which would have appeared completely uninhabited,
except for a bright red light which shone through a circular opening in
the door.


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