But you can't depend on him,
Desperade. Look at Johnston! He fooled _him_. Look at Beauregard--he
envies and fears _him_, so he keeps him down. Don't depend on the
President, Desperade, or you'll be a fool, my friend!"
And Mr. Torpedo walked on, puffing away at the fiery stump of his
cigar, and muttering curses against President Davis.
An hour afterward, I was conversing in the rotunda of the capitol, with
the high-bred and smiling old cavalier, Judge Conway, and he was saying
to me:--
"The times are dark, colonel, I acknowledge that. But all would be
well, if we could eradicate abuses and bring out our strength. A
fatality, however, seems pursuing us. The blockade-runners drain the
country of the little gold which is left in it; the forestallers run up
prices, and debase the currency beyond hope; the able-bodied and
healthy men who ought to be in the army, swarm in the streets; and the
bitter foes of the President poison the public mind, and infuse into it
despair. It is this, colonel, not our weakness, which is going to ruin
us, if we are ruined!"
III.
MY LAST VISIT TO JOHN M. DANIEL.
On the night before my return to the army, I paid my last visit to John
M. Daniel.
Shall I show you a great career, shipwrecked--paint a mighty ship run
upon the breakers? The current of our narrative drags us toward
passionate and tragic events, but toward few scenes more sombre than
that which I witnessed on this night in December, 1864.
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