"Then you have not heard—"
Something in Marian's tremulous voice awed him. He wiped the sweat and grime from his face.
"I have not been in Washington for three months."
"Mrs. Carrington is lying at the point of death."
Annis began to cry, and caught his hand.
"Then Heaven help you! No one can tell what the end will be. Now I must away to warn all who can fly, and then do the best we can to protect those who remain. If possible, I will send a guard. Little Annis, good-by, if I should never see you again."
She threw her arms about his neck with a convulsive sob. He held out his hand to Marian, but neither spoke. Then he rushed away. There was not a moment to lose. He strode over to the White House, where all was still uncertain, and Mrs. Madison had given orders for the dinner. To procure wagons was a labor of love and infinite persuasion, to say nothing of money.
Then the messenger came shouting that General Armstrong had ordered a retreat. Daniel Carroll had sent his carriage, but Mrs. Madison refused to go until the President arrived.
"It will not do for you to fall into the hands of the British," declared an officer. "That would crown the triumph."
Pale and weary from his fruitless journey, the President and his wife stepped into the carriage to be driven across to Georgetown, where further difficulties awaited them. The opposition journals made merry over the undignified flight, yet there is no doubt but that it was the aim of both the Admiral and General Ross to crown their victory by the capture of the most conspicuous figures of the Capital.