"Charges?" said Nancy inquiringly, as she picked up her wrap in obedience to a sign from Baker. "Charges, did you say, Mr. Secretary? Your threats multiply with lightning rapidity."
"Charges, madam," sternly, "as a rebel spy, and, as such, conniving at the death of Captain Lloyd and stealing the paper which proves your guilt."
"It is monstrous!" cried Nancy hotly. "Symonds' own words prove Captain Lloyd died naturally in his bed. As to the paper, I have repeatedly told you I know nothing of it. It may be simply a fabrication of this man's excited imagination. You have only his word against mine that it ever existed."
"Very true, madam; but I prefer to take his word." Stanton's tone of overbearing finality made Nancy clench her hands with rage. She turned appealingly to Lincoln.
"Mr. President, in the name of justice I ask for fair play."
Lincoln unlocked his big, bony hands, brought his chair softly down on its four legs, and rose awkwardly.
"There is much to be explained, Miss Nancy; and Secretary Stanton is right in the stand he is taking," he said unwillingly. How gladly would he have spoken otherwise! "I cannot interfere." Nancy blanched, and bit her lips to hide their trembling. Nothing escaped the President, and his worn, unlovely face grew tender. "I give you my word, you shall have a fair and impartial trial. Warren, go with Baker and see what you can do to soften Miss Nancy's imprisonment."
"Thanks, Mr. President." But he had turned back to the desk and did not see Nancy's half-extended hand, or hear her faltering voice. Her hand dropped to her side, and, choking back a sob, she followed Senator Warren and Baker out of the room.
Nancy had only a confused idea of what followed: the drive to the provost marshal's office, his questions and cross-questions, the signing of papers, all were but the hazy outlines of some fearful nightmare from which she must soon awake. She was hurried from the provost marshal's and into the carriage again. The rapid hoof beats of the horses kept pace with the pounding of her heart.
"Here we are, Nancy." Warren touched her on the shoulder as their carriage stopped in front of the Old Capitol Prison.