"You have bad news, Mr. President?" Betty gasped.
He rose, took her hand and led her to a seat.
"Not yet, dear, but I'm expecting it."
"We lost the battle yesterday?" she eagerly asked.
"Apparently not. You may read that. I trust you implicitly."
He handed her the dispatch he had received from General Pope after the
first day's fight at Manassas. Betty read it quickly:
"We fought a terrific battle here yesterday with the combined forces of
the enemy, which lasted with continuous fury from daylight until dark,
by which time the enemy was driven from the field which we now occupy.
The enemy is still in our front, but badly used up. We lost not less
than eight thousand men killed and wounded, but from the appearance of
the field the enemy lost two to one. The news has just reached me from
the front that the enemy is retreating toward the mountains."
Betty looked up surprised:
"Isn't that good news?"
"Nothing to brag about. It's the last sentence that worries me----"
"But that seems the best!"
"It might be but for the fact that Jackson is leading that retreat
toward the mountains! I've an idea that he will turn up to-day on Pope's
rear with Lee's whole army on his heels. Jackson is in the habit of
appearing where he's least expected----"
He paused, paced the floor a moment in silence and threw his long arms
suddenly upward in a hopeless gesture:
"If God would only give me such a man to lead our armies!"
"Is General McClellan at Alexandria to-day?" Betty suddenly asked.
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