Many who had taken deep thought of
the times and of men, were more alarmed about Pope than he was about
himself. They did not like those jubilant dispatches from "Headquarters
in the Saddle." There was ominous news that Lee himself was marching
north, and that he and Jackson would soon be together. Anxious eyes
scanned the hills about Washington. The enemy had been very near once
before, and he might soon be near again.
Dick had an hour of leisure, and he wandered into an old hotel, at which
many great men had lived. They would point to Henry Clay's famous chair
in the lobby, and the whole place was thick with memories of Webster,
Calhoun and others who had seemed almost demigods to their own generation.
But a different crowd was there now. They were mostly paunchy men who
talked of contracts and profits. One, to whom the others paid deference,
was fat, heavy and of middle age, with a fat, heavy face and pouches
under his eyes. His small eyes were set close together, but they
sparkled with shrewdness and cunning.
The big man presently noticed the lad who was sitting quietly in one of
the chairs against the wall.
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