The scene next shifts for a moment to the dis-
tant town of Washington, among the hills of west-
ern Pennsylvania. On the morning of September 19,
President Grant and his private secretary General
Porter were playing croc^uet on the lawn, when Fisk's
messenger, after twenty-four hours of travel by rail
and carriage, arrived at the house, and sent in to
ask for General Porter. When the President's game
was ended. Porter came, received his own letter from
Corbin, and called the President, who entered the
room and took his brother-in-law's despatch. He
then left the room, and after some ten or fifteen
minutes' absence returned. The messenger, tired of
waiting, then asked, " Is it all right ? " " All right,"
replied the President ; and the messenger hastened
to the nearest telegraph station, and sent word to
Fisk, "Delivered; all right."

The messenger was altogether mistaken. Not only
was all not right, but all was going hopelessly wrong.
The President had at the outset supposed the man to
be an ordinary post-office agent, and the letter an
ordinary letter which had arrived through the post-
office. Not until Porter asked some curious question
as to the man, did the President learn that he had
been sent by Corbin merely to carry this apparently
unimportant letter of advice. The President's sus-
picions were excited; and the same evening, at his
request, Mrs. Grant wrote a hurried note to Mrs. Cor-



350 HISTORICAL ESSAYS.
bin, telling her how gi'eatly the President was dis-
tressed at the rumor that Mr, Corbin was speculating
in Wall Street, and bow much lie hoped that Mr.
