"I've just shaken hands with her—she is here!"
"Would you mind putting in a word—"
"I'll do more, sir—I'm in command to-day. I'll issue positive orders—"
Jennie moved, he saw her and beckoned. She came, blushing.
"What's this, my little comrade?" he whispered, seizing her hands. "The war is over. I've shaken hands with Horace Greeley and Gerrit Smith to-day. There can be no stragglers in our camp, I owe my life to this young man."
He took Jennie's hand, placed it on Socola's arm, and he led her silent and blushing from the crowd to an alcove in the far corner of the hall.
She looked up into his face with tenderness.
"You've done a noble and beautiful thing in the gift of your life to our Chief for these two miserable years—"
"They've been miserable to you?"
She smiled.