Chapter 16

A TANGLED SKEIN

The President and his companions sat looking at Symonds in stupefied silence. Secretary Stanton was the first to speak.

"Dead!" he thundered. "Who killed him?"

"I don't know, sir."

"What killed him?"

"I don't know, sir," reiterated Symonds stupidly.

"Was he shot or stabbed?"

"Neither, sir."

"Well, damn my soul!" The exasperated and hot-tempered Secretary clutched the inkstand with the evident intention of hurling it at Symonds. "_What_ did he die of?"

"I don't know, sir." Symonds passed a trembling hand over his pale face. "He was just lying there in bed--dead."

"Had Captain Lloyd been ill?" asked the President.

"No, Mr. President; not to my knowledge. He appeared to be in good health and spirits when I left him this afternoon; only exhausted from five days in the saddle. He told me he was going to lie down and rest, and that I was to send for him after I had seen Colonel Baker, who was then in Baltimore, and arranged for this lady's arrest."

"Take that chair, Symonds," said the President, "and tell us all you know of this affair."

Obediently Symonds pulled forward the chair indicated, and faced the President, much perturbed in mind.

"I met Colonel Baker, as Captain Lloyd directed, and gave him the information he had been waiting for. We came here, and, after consulting the Secretary, Colonel Baker ordered me to bring Captain Lloyd to this room.

"When I reached Mrs. Lane's boarding house, I went directly up to the captain's sitting room. I rapped and rapped on his door, but could get no response." Symonds paused impressively, and five pairs of eyes watched him almost without blinking. "The captain had told me he was a heavy sleeper; so, thinking I would have to shake him awake, I tried the door knob. It turned, and I entered. The room was dark except for the moonlight which came through the front windows.

"I saw that the communicating door leading to the captain's bedroom was open; so I went over to it and called Captain Lloyd's name. Not getting any answer, I walked into the room. It was pitch dark, and the next thing I knew I had tripped and fallen over a body...."

"You just stated that you found Captain Lloyd dead in bed," interposed the Secretary sharply.

"And so I did, sir."

"Then, what do you mean by saying you fell over his body on the floor?"

"It wasn't his body, sir."

"Get on, get on!" Stanton glared impatiently at Symonds, who had stopped and was nervously twirling his cap in his fingers. The President was intently watching Nancy, who sat on the edge of her chair listening to Symonds' slow speech with bated breath.

"I picked myself up, sir, considerably shaken, struck a match, found a burner and lighted the gas. Then I leaned over and looked at the man on the floor ... it was Major Goddard!"

A low cry of terror broke from Nancy. She reeled in her seat. Stanton viewed her emotion with grim satisfaction. He had found the vulnerable heel of Achilles.

"He wasn't ... Symonds, don't say it...."

Nancy pleaded. "Don't say he was----" Her hands were raised, as if to push some over-mastering horror from her.

"No, no, ma'am; he was only unconscious from a blow on his head." Symonds, shocked by her look of agony, spoke with unusual rapidity.

Nancy bowed her head in her hands; then, realizing that the four men were noting her every movement, she straightened herself and faced them with regained self-control.

"What next, Symonds?" exclaimed Stanton.

"I turned to the bed, and was astounded to see Captain Lloyd sleeping peacefully--at least, I thought so then. I rushed over and shook and shook him. The Lord forgive me! I was so excited over Major Goddard that I never thought, never suspected. I had pushed Captain Lloyd up in bed by that time in my efforts to rouse him. To my unutterable horror, he fell back in my arms a dead weight, and my hand accidentally touched his cold face. I quickly unbuttoned his shirt and placed my ear over his heart, but could detect no action there, nor any pulse when I clutched his wrist.

"It took me a few minutes to collect myself; then I called the landlady, Mrs. Lane. She sent one of her boarders for the provost marshal. When he arrived, I turned the rooms over to him, and came on here to report to the Secretary."

"Did you send for a physician, Symonds?" asked Lincoln.

"Yes, Mr. President. Doctor Ward reached the boarding house a few minutes before the provost marshal. He declared Captain Lloyd had apparently been dead for some hours, and that Major Goddard was unconscious from a blow on the head."

"Did he make an examination as to the cause of Captain Lloyd's death?" inquired Stanton.

"No, Mr. Secretary. He said that the captain was beyond his help, and that Major Goddard needed immediate attention. He dressed the major's wound at once, and then I helped him lift the still unconscious officer onto the other bed."

"Had Major Goddard regained consciousness before you left?"

"No, Mr. Secretary. He had lost a great deal of blood, and Doctor Ward said it might be hours before he came to himself. The doctor seemed to fear concussion of the brain," he added thoughtfully.

A low sigh escaped Nancy. Only the President noticed her agitation. The other men had forgotten her presence, so absorbed were they in Symonds' story.

"The provost marshal stationed a guard about the house," resumed Symonds, before the Secretary could frame another question. "He placed Mrs. Lane and her whole household under arrest pending an investigation."

"He did right," was Stanton's brief comment. "The affair is certainly mysterious. Did the room look as if there had been a fight?"

"No, Mr. Secretary. There was a good deal of blood collected on the floor about Major Goddard's head; but not even a chair was overturned. When I first reached him, Captain Lloyd lay as if asleep, covered by a bed quilt."

"Strange!" muttered Stanton, and he looked at the President, who sat tilted back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head, gazing through lowered lids at the scene before him. As Lincoln made no comment, and Warren was equally silent, he continued his questions more briskly. "Undoubtedly Major Goddard will satisfactorily explain what took place in the room before Captain Lloyd's death, and who his assailant was, as soon as he regains consciousness. Now, we have a more pressing matter to attend to to-night." With a wave of his hand, he indicated Nancy. "This afternoon Captain Lloyd showed you a paper, a cipher despatch, written by this young lady..."

"I protest," interrupted Nancy vehemently, "against such a base accusation."

"...taken by him from Major George Pegram, a rebel spy, did he not?" continued Stanton, paying no heed to Nancy.

"Yes, Mr. Secretary; he showed me such a paper," admitted Symonds.

"Did it occur to you, Symonds, to take possession of that paper before it fell into other hands?"

"It did, sir."

"Good. Give it to me." And Stanton stretched out an eager hand.

"I--I--can't, Mr. Secretary," stammered the Secret Service agent. "I searched all the captain's belongings before the provost marshal arrived; but the pocketbook containing the despatch had disappeared."