He threw his big hands into the air with a gesture of despair, his face corpse-like in its ashen agony. He took a step from her and leaned against the long table in the centre of the room for support.
Betty whispered something in the mother's ear and led her near again.
"If you'll just give my boy to me alive," she went on in low anguish, "I'll take him home and keep him there and I'll pledge my life that he will never again take up arms against the Union——"
"You can guarantee me that?" he interrupted, holding her gaze.
"I'm sure of it. He's noble, high-spirited, the soul of honor. He was always good and never gave me an hour's sorrow in his life until this war came——"
The long arm suddenly swung toward his Secretary:
"Have the prisoner, Ned Vaughan, brought here immediately. When he comes, Madam, I'll see what can be done."
With a sob of joy the mother leaned against Betty, who took her out into the air until the wagon from the jail should come.
They had led Ned quickly into the President's office before his mother and Betty knew of his arrival. His wrists were circled with handcuffs. The President looked over his spectacles at the irons and spoke sharply:
"Take those things off him——"