The puzzled Commanding General was racking his brains to find out if his old friend Abercromby had committed any fatal error during his somewhat bacchanalian visit on "special duty." "I'm glad he is gone" mused the stout-hearted, thick-headed old Commander, as he read, over and over, the Viceroy's cipher dispatch to the departed General.
"Do nothing further! Turn over all property, on invoice, to General Willoughby, and report here forthwith.

Hold no communication with Johnstone, and guard an absolute silence.

Report in person, instantly on your arrival." "Something has surely gone wrong!" at last decided Willoughby.

"Old Hugh Fraser Johnstone may have been too much for him.

Strange, the Viceroy says nothing of him!" And then he read a second dispatch, with the Viceroy's orders to himself.