Holt hurried from the council chamber at one o'clock with a smile of
triumph playing about his sinister mouth. His plan had succeeded. He had
worked Stanton as the legal adviser of the President exactly as he had
foreseen. The little steamer would test the mettle of the men of South
Carolina who were training their batteries on Fort Sumter. If they dared
to fire on her--all right--the lines of battle would be drawn.
He seized Socola's arm.
"Come with me to the War Office."
Inside, he closed the door, inspected the room in every nook and corner
for a possible eavesdropper, seated himself and leaned close to his
attentive listener.
"I have established your character now through your connection with the
Minister from Sardinia beyond the possibility of any doubt. Your
position will not be called in question. You will appear in the South as
the representative, unofficial and yet duly accredited, for King Victor
Emmanuel. Your purpose will be, of course, the cultivation of friendly
relations with the officials of the new Government looking to the day of
its coming recognition--you understand?"
"Perfectly--"
"You have absolutely consecrated your life, and every talent, to your
country?"
"Body and soul--"
The dark eyes flashed with the light of a religious fanatic.
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