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in a grave particular of his life, and to him
judgment had come swiftly, and by his own
hand. He, for whom the faraway loved
ones were praying, had adoped the suicide’s
desperate resort. .
CHAPTER XX.
ON TRIAL FOR HIS LIFE.
Washington hada sensation. A bold at-
tempt, and one which nearly succeeded, had
been made by rebel agents to rescue the in-
fumous epy and traitor, who called himself
Major Spencer, from his cell in the prison,
The keeper of the jail had been obliged to
ield to numbers, but, hiding the keys he
had delayed the secret agents until the
Union men arrived, and so frustrated their
scheme.
‘Tbe other hero was Private George Wash-
ington Ditmar—all the papers printed the
name in big capitals—who had fought the
enemy single handed until he fell, fainting
from loss of blood from a wound in his
head, inflicted by one of the secessionists.
The pallant fellow,” the papers added,
was then lyivg in the hospital, insensible,
but there was reason to believe he would
fully recover.
He was also said to bea‘ brave, loyal,
modest man, with a frugal turn of mind,
and on his person was found five hundred
dollars, which it was supposed he intended
to send home, to his wife the following
’ .
‘ay.’
Vive tuke the liberty of suggesting,”’ said
another paper, **that this brave soldier,
who heroically fought the enemy alone, be
made a lieutenant, or captain, when he re-
covers.” ,
Rest on, G. W. Ditmar, this world is not
alla dreary show! :
But the phials of everybody's wrath were
poured on the head of the major. People
searched the. dictionaries for adjectives
severe enough to describe him. They for-
got to abuse those who had_ broken into the
jail to get him out,in their zeal to abuse
him, who, had they but known it, had re-
fused to accompany the breakers—and their
was a clamor for his immediate trial.
Government was ready with its case; the
mysterious major was to be tried at once.
President Lincoln had had an interview
with Mr. Blackstone, the accuser’s counsel,
and convinced that man that John Thorbert
was not what the prisoner claimed he was.
Just what the president had said, Black-
“stone declined to state.
But the major was to be tried at last.
John Thorbert did not go near the place
of trial. Hissympathies had been strongly
aroused for Barbara Deane, and he did not
care to see her lover suffer. Besides, John
was attending toa case of hisown. He had
nearly lost his life in the river, as before re-
Jated, and he: had men on the track who
were looking up the perpetrators of the
eed. .
One detective thus engaged was a white-
haired, long-bearded old man, with a be-
nevolent countenance, but very keen eyes.
Oddly enough, this old man called at the
hospital that morning to see Ditmar, but
went away when informed that he was un-
conscious.
Thorbert had given 2 sum of money to
Burt Babson, to reward him for his honesty
in the river adventure. It wssasomewhat
singular circumstance that Babson, who
appeared on the field of Bull Run as the
wilful would-be assassin of one of our prin-
- cipal characters, should, two years later,
save another from death. . .
Babson, badly wounded at Bull Run, had
finally recovered, got into some trouble and
been severely punished by his officers. Then
he deserted, came to Washington, and there
lived an-—uncertain and never-too-honest
The case of Major Spencer came up in due
e
But the prosecution dealt the defence
~~ sledge-hammer blows. Unless a good deal
of “tall swearing” was done, it was clearly
roven that he who called himself Walter
pencer was really Robert Bridewell.
By the end of the second day. all the
evidence wasin, and the major wasgiven a
chance to speak for himself.
He arose, tall, manly, bold and fearless,
yet witha kind of refined dignity which
atrongly impressed all, and looked slow]
along the line of faces of those who were his
udges. Then he spoke ina strong, clear,
1, modest manner:
OE lett ’ aid, ‘Iam on‘ trial for
“Gentlemen,” he said,
\. hafact would make a guilty
my life. Suc! Ppt,
Joquent, but, for my own part,
Tittle to say, and that in the simplest words,
11
THE WAR LIBRARY.
Tam at s-loss to account for the evidence
which has been presented. If Ihad not been
confronted with it for several weeks, I
should now believe myself dreaming. I am
accused of being one Robert Bridewell. I
emphatically deny that suchis my name. I
am Walter Spencer, and have been all my
life. Yet, men whom I have known come
forward and swear that lam not Spencer,
but Bridewell.
**Asfor my connection with the present
war, I have always been on the side of the
Union. I bave loved my country, and
fought for its honor and maintainance to
the best of my ability. I deny writing the
letter to Robert Lee introduced here as evi-
dence. The writing is fatally like my own,
butitisa forgery. I never wrote to Lee in
my life. Now,and always,I have been a
Icyal man. humble way I have
worked earnestly for the Union, and I hope
and pray that the grand cause may triumph
in the end, whether I live tosee that con-
summation or not.
“IT cunnot blame the members of this tri-
bunalif they regard me as guilty. Iam aoc-
cused, and I cannot explain sway the evi-
deuce. I can only believe that I have made
myself obnoxious to certain persons, and
that they are resolved to put me out of the
way. Gentlemen, [am in the web of a vile
conspiracy, and I see men whom I have re-
garded as my friends, arrayed against me.
Why it is so I do not know.
“In defense I can only point to my record.
I have been with the Army of the Potomac
all the way from Bull Run to the present
time. I have worked under the eyes of such
enerals as McClellan, Burnside, Hooker,
feade and Warfield, and all have certified
to my outward devotion. You are not asked
to believe I was secretly a traitor and a spy.
Ican only ask you to consider my record
and base your judgment upon it, and, in
conclusion, to hear me when I swear that I,
Walter Spencer, have never committed a
hostile act against that grand Union which
I love so well!”
He had raised his right hand toward
Heaven at the last words, and, though he
did not raise his voice above the quiet tone
he had used from the first, there was a
solemnity aboutit which deeply impressed
tnem all. .
He then sat down, and fora moment there
was silence, but a well-known general
voiced the sentiment of all when he turned
to a comrade and said, in 4 low voice:
“Ifthia man is a traitor, where shall we
look for our patriots.”
It was then too late in the day to conclude
the trial, so it was adjourned until the fol-
lowing morning, when theargument of Mr.
Blackstone would be heard and the case
concluded. -
The major was returned to his cell.
The next day the court reassembled at the
usualhour. Mr. Blackstone was the most
noticable figure.
It was noticed that Major Spencer did not
look as wellas usual. His gaze met that of
every one else steadily, but there were dark
circles about his eyes anda haggard expres-
sion on his face. It was generally remarked
that he must have slept poorly, and the
prison guard could have told that the major
awoke at four o’clock and had passed the
remainder of the night in pacing his room.
But the major was as calm as everin the
court.
“ The evidence is now all in,” said the pre-
siding officer, when he had taken his seat,
“and we will proceed with the arguments.
Mr. Blackstone, we are ready for you.”
he learned counselor ©*<2_c« with elo-
quence which thirstec .or utterance and
began to rise slowly, but the major was
ahead of him. That mysterious person arose
and faced the tribunal.
“Gentlemen,” he said, in a clear, stead
voice, ‘*I have been impartially tried, and
am now ready to have your verdict without
the tedious interjection of speeches——”
Mr. Blackstone, his brow darkened by a
miniature thunder-cloud, began to arise
again, but the presiding officer motioned
him back.
* Gentlemen,” resumed the major, stead-
lly, “it seems to meafarce to go further,
‘and Iam ready to abide by your verdict. If
it’s against me, asit undoubtedly will be, I
propose to show you how a Southerner can
meet his fate, I, sirs,ama descendent of a
proud old Virginia family, and I will show
those who know me thatit is not asa craven
that Robert Rhett Bridewell dies!”
The last words rang out pompously, but
all the hearers sat for a moment dazed.
** Bridewell!” finally repeated the presid-
ing officer, in a wondering voice. “Do you
=
at last admit that such is your true name?’
“T have never denied it, sir,’ was the
haughty reply. ‘‘Iam Robert Bridewell, a
Virginian, a Southerner, a deadly enemy of
the tyranical North anda firm supporter of
the just causes of the South. Yes, sir, ow
cause is just. You may call us rebels if you
will, but we glory in the fact that we have
thrown off the yoke of tyranny the North
would have putupon us!”
Utter silence reigned in the room as he
finished. l were astonished, dumbfound-
ed, and Blackstone looked likea dying man. -
Where\now were his hopes of fame and
glory?
Even the gray-headed generals were
amazed. They had known of confessions by
convicted men before then, but never be-
fore had they known a man to confess just
as his lawyer, a good one, was about tomake
his decisive plea. The strange new depart-
ure of the mysterious major utterly put to
flight all their theories and opinions, and no
one ventured to say a word.
“Is thisa company of mutes?” sarcastic-
ally demaded the prisoner,
Before he could be answered there was &
stiratthe rear of the room and several
people passed out, carrying a lady who ap-
peared to have fainted. As they went, those
who knew her and saw her face, recognized
Barbara Deane. : we
Then Glendora Marchmont came impa-
tiently forward and confronted the major.
“Robert Bridewell—villain !—behold your
work!” she exclaimed, in a thrilling voice.
An expression of pity was on the major’s
‘ace. :
“Itis sad,” he answered, gently. ‘‘ Who
was the lady?”
“Did you not see her face? It was Bar-
bara Deane, whom you——”
“I never heard the name before. Sheisa
stranger to me, but you will please say to
her when she recovers that I regret having
been the indirect cause of her attack.”
Glendora looked at him in indignant won-
der for a moment, and then swept from the
*
‘oom.
The presiding officer summoned up his
dignity.
“Order in the room!’’ he said, command-
ingly. ‘I understand, prisoner, that you
confess you are Robert Bridewell?”
“So Ido, and so I have always said,” was
the calm reply. -
“Do 72 confess that you are a secret
agent of the Confederacy?”
* Blackstone madea feeble effort to prevent
a reply, but it came in spite of him. :
“You have established the fact—I shall
not deny it? . - .
‘Who were your accomplices?” :
The major opened his lips to answer, but,
as he did so, the semi-silence of the court-
room was broken by the report of a revol-
ver; the prisoner, throwing his hands up to
his head, dropped back in his chair, a red
stream trickling down his now pallid face. -
CHAPTER XXI.
“*A REMARKABLE CASE!"’
Such was the headline, in bold letters, of
an article which appeared in the Surgical
and Medical Trumpet, a journal the char-
acter of which is indicated by its name, for
December 25, 1863.
We give the article entire, with the ex-
ception of certain scientific terms which
would not be clear to the ordinary reader.:
“The existing war has furnished many
remarkable cases in surgery, but one of
these we believe to be, in one respect, with-
out parallel in science or past fact. Before
the war there lived in Virginia two young
meu, named Robert Bridewell and Walter
Spencer. Théy were- neighbors, but never
friends, and the breach was widened when
Bridewell took the ready money of one Miss
Glendora Marchmont and invested it in
such & waythat it was completely lost.
This was the fault of an unscrupulous man
named Bredwick, and Bridewell was as
sorry as any one for the loss, though both
Spencerand Miss Marchmont believed him
a party to Bridewell’s irregularity.
“When the war-clouds gathered, Bride-
wellbecame an ardent secessionist, while
Spencer wasa strong Unionman. Each
listed where his sympathies were, but, be-
fore Spencer went North, he was secretl:
married to Miss Marchmont. He enter:
an Indiana regiment, and at the battle of
Bull Run was captured by the rebels, and
for two years held prisoner in Libby.
‘*Bridewell fought well for the rebels, but
when his superiors asked him to go North
asa secret agent, he agreed, and it was de-
cided that he should pretend to desert at