“If you please,” said Gen. A. “We mentioned the matter to you first in order to get your consent to an interview with her.”
The Doctor went out of the room, and in a few moments returned with Mildred, introducing her to Gen. A., who had never seen her before. An explanation of how and why Gen. B. had formed the acquaintance of this family would, no doubt, lead at once to his personal identification.
“Shall I remain in the room?” asked the Doctor, after Mildred was seated.
“Certainly; we expected you to do so,” replied Gen. A.
The true, actual history of the war of 1861 will never be written. It cannot be. It is only general events that the dignity of history will condescend to record. Take the battle of Bull Run, which has been so briefly described in previous pages of our story. Scarcely anything more than the events which we have outlined will go down to future generations. The thousand little incidents which constituted the very essence of the fight, and give to it a coloring which the historical brush must ever miss, will never be known. The history of a battle is nothing more than a picture of it: three-fourths of the scenes are left out.
From one till three o’clock who can tell what occurred on the field of Bull Run? The war-cloud floated in fragments: it was like a fog. The contest seemed to dwindle almost into individual combats. The grim warriors were mixed up in a dense cloud of smoke, through which the historian cannot see clearly. It was not till after three o’clock that the battle presented an aspect that comes within the scope of history. To get the correct history of those two or three hours, each individual like Ernest would have to tell what occurred within his sight. Little incidents, though thrilling, such as we are about to relate, are rejected from the domain of sober history. Individual deeds of daring and heroism, necessity demands shall find their place in the province of biography. Accordingly that which Mildred performed will be found recorded nowhere except in the pages of this story.
“We have a mission,” said Gen. A. presently, “which only a lady can accomplish, and Gen. B. has suggested you as a person who would be likely to undertake it; and this is the object of our present visit.”
Mildred looked surprised.
“If it is anything I can do, General,” she said, “I think I have sufficient patriotism to undertake it.”
“I have no doubt of that. But, to make a long story short, we want a lady to go into the capital—Washington City, I mean.”