I carry with me no hostile
remembrance. For whatever offense I may have given which has not been
redressed, or for which satisfaction has not been demanded, I have,
Senators, in this solemn hour of our parting to offer you my apology--"
The low musical voice died softly away in the silence of tears.
A woman sobbed aloud.
Socola bent toward his trembling companion and whispered:
"Who is she?"
Jennie brushed the tears from her brown eyes before replying:
"The Senator's wife. She's heart-broken over it all--didn't sleep a
wink all night. I've been looking for her to faint every minute."
The leader closed his portfolio. His hollow cheeks, thin lips and white
drawn face were clothed with an expression of sorrow beyond words as he
slowly turned and left the scene of his life's triumphs.
The spell of his eloquence at last thrown off the crowd once more
dissolved into hostile lowering groups.
Stern old Zack Chandler of Michigan collided with Jennie's father in the
cloak room, his eyes red with wrath.
"Well, Barton," he growled, "after the damned insolence of that scene if
the North don't fight, I'll be much mistaken--"
"You generally are, sir," Barton retorted.
"If they don't fight, by the living God, I'll leave this country and
join another nation--the Comanche Indians preferred to this Government.
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