He may
succeed, but then I must risk it. I'll lose some good soldiers from the
army but I've got to do it. All I'm waiting for now is a victory on
which to launch my thunderbolt----"
A key clicked in the front door and the quick, firm step of McClellan
echoed through the hall.
The orderly was reporting his distinguished visitor. They could hear his
low words, and the sharp answer.
The General mounted the stairs and entered the front room overhead. He
was there, of course, to arrange his toilet. He was a stickler for
handsome clothes, spotless linen and the last detail of ceremony.
Again the minutes dragged. The tick of the clock on the mantel rang
through the silent room and the face of the younger man grew red with
rage.
Unable to endure the insolence of a subordinate toward the great
Chieftain, whom he loved with a boy's blind devotion, Hay sprang to his
feet:
"Let's go, sir!"
The big hand was quietly raised in a gesture of command and he sank into
his seat.
Five minutes more passed and the sound of approaching footsteps were
heard quickly, firmly pressed with military precision.
The President nodded:
"You see, my son!"
But instead of the General the handsome figure of his aide, John
Vaughan, appeared in the doorway:
"The General begs me to say, Mr. President, that he is too much fatigued
to see any one this evening and has retired for the night.
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