.

"I wonder if you know how I love you? How I've dreamed of your future? I
may not see you every day as I wish; I'm absorbed in great affairs. But
more and more I think of you and Phil. I'll have a big surprise for you
both some day."

"Your love is all I ask," she answered simply.

Within an hour, Mrs. Cameron found herself before the new President. The
letter had opened the door as by magic. She poured out her story with
impetuous eloquence while Mr. Johnson listened in uneasy silence. His
ruddy face, his hesitating manner, and restless eyes were in striking
contrast to the conscious power of the tall dark man who had listened so
tenderly and sympathetically to her story of Ben but a few weeks before.

The President asked:

"Have you seen Mr. Stanton?"

"I have seen him once," she cried with sudden passion. "It is enough. If
that man were God on His throne, I would swear allegiance to the devil and
fight him!"

The President lifted his eyebrows and his lips twitched with a smile:

"I shouldn't say that your spirits are exactly drooping! I'd like to be
near and hear you make that remark to the distinguished Secretary of
War."

"Will you grant my prayer?" she pleaded.

"I will consider the matter," he promised evasively.

Mrs. Cameron's heart sank.

"Mr. President," she cried bitterly, "I have felt sure that I had but to
see you face to face and you could not deny me. Surely it is but justice
that he have the right to see his loved ones, to consult with counsel, to
know the charges against him, and defend his life when attacked in his
poverty and ruin by all the power of a mighty government? He is feeble and
broken in health and suffering from wounds received carrying the flag of
the Union to victory in Mexico. Whatever his errors of judgment in this
war, it is a shame that a Nation for which he once bared his breast in
battle should treat him as an outlaw without a trial."

"You must remember, madam," interrupted the President, "that these are
extraordinary times, and that popular clamour, however unjust, will make
itself felt and must be heeded by those in power. I am sorry for you, and
I trust it may be possible for me to grant your request."

"But I wish it now," she urged. "He sends me word I must go home. I can't
leave without seeing him. I will die first."

She drew closer and continued in throbbing tones:

"Mr. President, you are a native Carolinian--you are of Scotch Covenanter
blood. You a