Jennie read the next sentence from the Dahlgren paper in high quivering tones:
"The men must be kept together and well in hand, and once in the city, it must be destroyed and Jeff Davis and his Cabinet killed—"
The girl paused and fixed her gaze on Socola.
"The man who planned that raid came with the willful and deliberate murder of unarmed men in his soul. The man who helped him inside is equally guilty of his crime—"
She resumed her reading without waiting for reply.
"Prisoners will go along with combustible material. The officer must use his discretion about the time of assisting us. Pioneers must be prepared to construct a bridge or destroy one. They must have plenty of oakum and turpentine for burning, which will be rolled in soaked balls, and given to the men to burn when we get into the city—"
Socola lifted his hand.
"Please, dear—these instructions are not mine. I do not excuse or palliate them. The daring youngster who conceived this paid the penalty with his life. It's all that any of us can give for his country. There's something that interests me now far more than this sensation—far more than the mere fact that my true business here has been discovered by you and my life forfeited to your Government—"
"And that is?"