l let me, I will call for you and your aunt."

"We shall be delighted." The front door had been opened by a small boy
in answer to Goddard's imperative knock. Nancy turned and held out her
hand. "Until then--good-bye." And the door slammed shut.

Turning on his heel, Goddard retraced his steps to the Capitol, but
when he reached the building he concluded not to enter, so continued on
his way to his boarding house opposite the Ebbitt. On leaving the
Capitol grounds, his progress was blocked by a regiment of raw recruits
on its way to the front, which halted and "marked time." Their band
struck up "Three Hundred Thousand More," and the soldiers instantly
sang the stirring words:

We are coming, Father Abra'am, three hundred thousand more,
From Mississippi's winding stream and from New England's shore;
We leave our ploughs and workshops, our wives and children dear,
With hearts too full for utterance, with but a silent tear;
We dare not look behind us, but steadfastly before:
We are coming, Father Abra'am, three hundred thousand more.

You have called us, and we're coming, by Richmond's bloody tide
To lay us down, for Freedom's sake, our brothers' bones beside;
Or from foul treason's savage grasp to wrench the murderous blade,
And in the face of foreign foes its fragments to parade.
Six hundred thousand loyal men and true have gone before;
We are coming, Father Abra'am, three hundred thousand more.

Goddard promptly joined in the singing with others in the crowd which
had collected. Suddenly a heavy hand fell on his shoulder, and facing
about he found Lloyd standing behind him.

"Come out of this crowd," said the latter, sternly. In silence the two
men walked up the Avenue to Third Street, and Lloyd led his companion
into that quieter thoroughfare. Looking to see that no one was near
enough to hear what he said, he turned savagely on Goddard.

"I should arrest you at once."

Goddard stared blankly at Lloyd, unable to believe his ears.

"On what charge?" he demanded, hotly.

"Aiding and abetting the enemy."

Goddard's face cleared. "You are crazy," he remarked, tersely.

"Am I? We shall see. I warned you Nancy Newton was a spy."

Goddard's eyes snapped angrily, and his color rose.

"Suppose we leave Miss Newton's name out of the discussion," he said,
haughtily; then, in a more friendly tone: "Here I am, happy and
carefree, and you appear, like 'Banquo's ghost,'