During the latter days of my imprisonment, I indulged more than once in
a day-dream, not the less pleasant because it is wildly improbable.
Should the changes and chances of this mortal life ever bring me face to
face with that jovial Judge, on any neutral ground, by my faith and
honor I will say in his ear five short words not hard to understand. On
the steps of Carroll place, when the door opened to set me free, I sent
Major Turner a message much to this effect. I devoutly hope it was
delivered with the "verbal accuracy" of which he is so remarkably fond.
At the conclusion of the long examination, the Judge-Advocate left me
for a short time to obtain instructions--possibly a warrant--from
Secretary Stanton; on his return he told me that nothing could be
decided until Shipley's case had been inquired into; he assured me that
the latter should be telegraphed for at once from Wheeling; and so, with
the pleasantest of smiles, and a jest on his lips, handed me over to
Colonel Baker, who was already in waiting. This official's overt
functions are those of a District Provost Marshal--in reality, he is the
Chief of Secret Police. There are legions of stories abroad, imputing to
him the grossest oppression and venality; even strong Unionists shake
their heads disparagingly, at the mention of his name.
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