The First Assassin Read Online Free PDF

looked outside again. Dignitaries were filing out of the rotunda and onto the platform. Suddenly Lincoln appeared. His back was to Rook, but there was no doubt about his identity. He stood several inches taller than the people around him. There was also that hat. And then there was the applause—wild cheers the likes of which Rook had not heard all day. If the crowd on the Avenue had treated Lincoln coolly, here it adored him. These were his people. Rook realized he probably did not need troops in this throng. If any person tried to harm Lincoln, he would be swarmed by a mob of avengers. This was the climax of the inauguration, the moment when Scott had speculated Lincoln would be most vulnerable to an assassin. Rook suddenly understood that Lincoln had never been so safe. He felt a tremendous sense of relief. It had been impossible to rehearse for this day, and now for the first time he was confident the inauguration would be peaceful.
    He stepped away from the window and leaned against the wall. He took off his hat and rubbed his forehead. The soldier across from him was still standing at attention. The whole point of his being here was to make sure another man with a gun would not be. His job was done too.
    “Shall we listen to the inaugural?” asked Rook.
    “Yes, sir!” The young man was excited at the invitation.
    They watched Edward D. Baker introduce Lincoln. He was a senator from Oregon and also one of the incoming president’s closest friends. Rook and the private strained to detect his voice above occasional gusts of wind blowing by the Capitol. It was just possible to hear him, but listening demanded total concentration.
    When Baker finished, Lincoln rose to loud applause. From the corner of his eye, Rook noticed the private wore a huge grin—he was obviously a supporter. Lincoln removed his hat, but then realized that he did not have enough hands to hold his hat and protect the pages of his speech from the wind at the same time. He appeared uncertain about what to do. Then a stocky little figure on the stage got up. This was Stephen Douglas, the man Rook had supported for the presidency. The senator took the president’s hat and returned to his seat.
    The exchange took place a few feet behind the edge of the platform, and Rook was not sure how many people in the crowd saw what had just happened. That small gesture astonished him. Lincoln’s greatest political rival had come to the rescue. Lincoln was a few lines into his speech before Rook even noticed he had started speaking, he was so struck by what Douglas had done.
    Yes, thought Rook to himself, I would take a bullet for Lincoln.

FOUR
     
    THURSDAY, MARCH 14, 1861
     
    “This man is gonna help us, Lucius! It can feel it! All the slaves been talkin’ about it!”
    Lucius looked at the short woman standing before him in the foyer. She was trying to speak in a soft voice but could not keep from raising it. This was Nelly, the neighborhood busybody. She had come from next door to borrow a cup of sugar. She was always doing that. Lucius doubted that she really needed the sugar. She just wanted to talk.
    “I tell you again, Lucius: he’s gonna to help us!”
    “How’s he gonna to do that?”
    “He’s gonna to come down here and free us! Why else would all the white folks be so upset? I’ve lived through a bunch of these presidents, Lucius, and sometimes the white folks get upset about them. But they ain’t never been upset like they upset now. This is a whole new kind of upset!”
    “Lower your voice!” said Lucius in a sharp whisper. He turned to look at the staircase leading upstairs, as if he expected Bennett to come down and scold him for listening to Nelly’s nonsense. He knew his master was waiting for a guest who would arrive soon.
    Lucius was used to Nelly’s nattering. She seemed to know everybody on the Battery—and everything, too. Nelly had opinions on most subjects and enjoyed sharing them with anyone who at least would pretend