Her brain was on fire.
"I must sleep and look my best!" she laughed softly, buried her face in
the pillow and laughed again for joy. How could she sleep with her lover
standing there alive and strong with his arms clasping her to his heart!
She rose at daylight and threw open her window. The air was crisp with
the breath of fall. She watched the sun rise in solemn glory. A division
of cavalry dashed by, the horses' hoofs ringing sharply on the cobble
stones, sabres clashing. Behind them came another and another, and in a
distant street she heard the rumble of big guns, the crack of their
drivers' whips and the sharp cries of the men urging the horses to a
run.
Something unusual was on foot. The sun was barely up and the whole city
seemed quivering with excitement.
She dressed hurriedly, snatched a bite of toast and drank a cup of
coffee. In twenty minutes she entered the White House to get her pass to
the front. She wouldn't go to the War Department. Stanton was rude and
might refuse. The hour was absurd, but she knew that the President rose
at daylight and that he would see her at any hour.
She found him seated at his desk alone pretending to eat an egg and
drink his coffee from the tray that had been placed before him. His
dishevelled hair, haggard look and the pallor of his sorrowful face
showed only too plainly that he had not slept.
Pages:
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265