ffer my congratulations,"
Birmingham replied, and the remark slightly irritated Livingstone.

Could he have seen what happened during the next few hours his sleep
would have lost its sweetness. Birmingham went straight to the telegraph
office, and sent a cipher despatch to his man of business, ordering him
to see the President that night in Washington, and to declare in his
name, with all the earnestness demanded by the situation, that the
appointment of Livingstone would mean political death to him and immense
embarrassment to his party for years. As it would be three in the
morning before a reply would reach London, Birmingham went to bed with a
good conscience. Thus, while the two young men babbled all night in the
hotel, and thought with dread of the fatal hour next morning, wire, and
train, and business man flew into the capital and out of it, carrying
one man's word in and another man's glory out, fleet, silent,
unrecognized, unhonored, and unknown.

At breakfast Birmingham read the reply from his business man with
profound satisfaction. At breakfast the Minister read a second cablegram
with a sudden recollection of Birmingham's ominous words the night
before. He knew that he would need no congratulations, for the prize had
been snatched away forever. The cablegram informed him that he should
not sail on Saturday, and that explanations would follow. For a moment
his proud heart failed him. Bitterness flowed in on him, so that the
food in his mouth became tasteless. What did he care that his enemies
had triumphed? Or, that he had been overthrown? The loss of the vision
which had crowned his life, and made a hard struggle for what he thought
the fit and right less sordid, even beautiful; that was a calamity.

He had indulged it in spite of mental protests against the dangerous
folly. The swift imagination, prompted by all that was Livingstone in
him, had gone over the many glories of the expected dignity; the
departure from beautiful and flattering England, the distinction of the
return to his beloved native land, the splendid interval before the
glorious day, the crowning honors amid the applause of his own, and the
long sweet afternoon of life, when each day would bring its own
distinction! He had had his glimpse of Paradise. Oh, never, never would
life be the same for him! He began to study the reasons for his
ill-success....

At ten o'clock that day the President informed the General of the Army
in Mr. Dillo