e spoke.

"Your faith is strong, M'sieur!"

"It's not faith--we know. One Southerner can whip three Yankees any
day."

"But suppose it should turn out that he had to whip five or six or a
dozen?"

"Don't you think these fellows could do it?"

Socola hesitated. It was a shame to pull down a faith that could remove
mountains. He shrugged his slender shoulders and a pensive look stole
over his face. He seemed to be talking to himself.

"Your President tells me that his soldiers will do all that pluck and
muscle, endurance and dogged courage, dash and red-hot patriotism can
accomplish. And yet his view is not sanguine. A sad undertone I caught
in his voice. He says your war will be long and bloody--"

"Yes--I know," Dick broke in, "but nobody agrees with him. We'll show
old Jeff what we can do, if he'll just give us _one_ chance--that's all
we ask--just _one_ chance. Read that editorial in the Richmond
_Examiner_--"

He thrust a copy of the famous yellow journal of the South into Socola's
hand and pointed to a marked paragraph:

"From mountain top and valleys to the shores of the seas there is one
wild shout of fierce resolve to capture Washington City at all and every
human hazard!"

The North was marching southward with ropes and handcuffs with which to
end in triumph their holiday excursion on July 4. The South was marching
to meet them with eager pride, each man afraid the fight would be over
before he could reach the front to fire a single shot. And behind each
gay regiment of scornful men marched the white silent figure of Death.

CHAPTER XV

THE HOUSE ON CHURCH HILL

As Socola left his room at the Spotswood the following night, a stranger
met him at the turn of the dimly lighted corridor.

"Signor Socola, I believe?"

"At your service."

"I know some mutual friends in Washington connected with the Sardinian
Ministry--"

"I'm just starting for a stroll through the city," Socola interrupted.
"Will you join me?"

"With pleasure. As I am well acquainted with the streets of Richmond,
allow me to be your guide."

Socola followed with a nod of approval. Their walk led to the highest of
the city's seven hills. But few were stirring at this hour--half-past
seven. The people were busy at supper.

The two men paused at the gate of a stately, old-fashioned mansion in
the middle of a spacious lawn. The odor of sweet pinks filled the air.
The rose trellis and elaborate scheme of flower beds and