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will do what I can.”
    Hancock frowned appraisingly at Chamberlain. “You’ve got the right bearing and style of speaking to play an officer. Can you, though?”
    “I’ve taken on roles, sir, in speeches. This would be another role.”
    “A role which might cost you your life, sir, and one upon which the lives of many others will depend.”
    “I will do what I can as best I can,” Chamberlain repeated. “I can do no less than the rest of you.”
    Mosby nodded. “Your spirit is right for the role. Our West Pointers will teach you the exact ways to act and the language you must use. We will attempt this, gentlemen. I tire of fighting on the margins, pricking the hide of the enemy but causing no real damage. The cause of freedom requires that we run greater risks and strike greater blows.” He stood up, pointing to the diagram of Fort Monroe. “Captain Longstreet says we must get Lincoln back to Illinois as soon as we can. Tomorrow we will start assembling our force of counterfeit government cavalry and moving toward Norfolk. With luck, we will strike Fortress Monroe within a week’s time.”
    He raised his glass. “To victory, gentlemen.”
    The others raised their glasses as well, Longstreet adding a gruff addendum. “Or death.”
    Hancock smiled again before downing his drink. “Or both victory and death, damn it! Welcome to the cause, professor.”
     
     
     
    Six days later, Chamberlain rode a horse through the night’s darkness toward one of the causeways leading into Fort Monroe. He wore the uniform of a captain in the regular army cavalry, a pistol holstered on one hip and a regulation saber in a scabbard on the other. The unfamiliar weight of the weapons made him less uncomfortable than the fact that he was riding at the head of the column pretending to be a company of regular cavalry. Mosby had decided that, given the chance Lee might recognize him from drawings on wanted posters, it would be better for someone totally unknown to Lee to pose as the commanding officer of the cavalry. Mosby was riding several files behind him now, close enough to intervene if things started to fall apart, but Chamberlain still felt alone as the northernmost gate to the fort loomed ever closer.
    They had already made it through two checkpoints tonight on the road to the fort, the sentries at both places waving through the column without a hint of suspicion. But the fort itself would be a more challenging encounter, so Chamberlain did his best to fall into the role of an officer who had recently been awarded his rank for political achievements. Any errors he made should be attributed to his inexperience by the regular soldiers in the fort.
    Two sentries stood forth as the mounted column neared the gate, one of them calling out a challenge. Chamberlain raised one hand as he had been taught by Buford. “Column halt!” As he reined in his own mount and the rest of the cavalry clattered to a stop behind him, Chamberlain answered the challenge, his voice clear and confident in the quiet of the night. “Third Company, Tenth Cavalry, Captain Green commanding, here on orders from the War Department.”
    The sergeant in charge of the sentries came close to look at Chamberlain in the light of a lantern the sergeant held high. After a brief examination, the sergeant saluted. “Good evening, sir. I’ll have to call the officer in charge of the watch. We didn’t receive any word that you were coming.”
    “That’s because it was a secret movement, sergeant,” Chamberlain declared with self-important superiority. “Fetch your officer.”
    Waiting was doubly hard because he had to appear self-assured despite his fears. But it was only a few minutes before a lieutenant came hastening out of the gate and saluted Chamberlain. “Lieutenant Walker, Captain of the Guard, sir. May I see your orders, sir?”
    Chamberlain returned the salute with the hint of casualness that Hancock had drilled him on, offering the orders which