“I do not know what you can do,” cried Ernest in desperation, “but you ought to do something, since you are the cause of her misfortune.”
“Am I to be held responsible for all the calamities which the war may bring upon citizens and soldiers?” broke out the General. “If so, I shall resign my position at once. The young lady herself will not hold me to such responsibility. She went with a full knowledge of what she would have to encounter.”
“Suppose she did, sir, does that make it any the less necessary that efforts should be made to save her?”
“I would save her, if I could,” said the officer.
“General,” cried Ernest, overcome by his conflicting emotions, “something must be done for her relief. It seems to me that you are too indifferent about it.”
The General looked at him in surprise and with an expression of sternness, but Ernest was now deeply agitated, and he met the official coup d’ oeil without the slightest indication of servility.
“I cannot stay here in camp,” continued Ernest, “when the being who is dearer to me than life is in such imminent danger. You cannot expect me to be a good soldier under such circumstances.”
“Well, what do you want?” asked Gen. A.
“I must do something,” replied Ernest. “Can you aid me in getting into Washington?”