John's eyes suddenly flashed.
"You think so?"
"Absolutely sure of it."
"We'll try it then," he said, with a cold ring in his voice that chilled Betty's heart, and sent her home wondering at its meaning.
[CHAPTER XXXV]
[THE DARKEST HOUR]
In the summer of 1864 the President saw the darkest hours of his life. The change in his appearance was startling and pitiful. His sombre eyes seemed to have sunk into their caverns beneath the bushy brows and all but disappeared. Their gaze was more and more detached from earth and set on some dim, invisible shore. Deeper and deeper sank the furrows in his ashen face. The shoulders drooped beneath a weight too great for any human soul to bear.
To Betty Winter's expression of loyalty and sympathy he answered sadly:
"It's success I need, child,—not sympathy. My own burdens of cares are as nothing to my soul. It's our cause—our cause—the Union must live or I shall die!"