The Spymistress Read Online Free PDF Page B

shall have war, if Lincoln is not a coward!”
    Lizzie felt a chill raise the hairs on the back of her neck, and beside her, Eliza moaned and froze in her tracks. War. Of course war was inevitable now. “Come along,” Lizzie murmured, propelling her friend forward. Eliza took a few stumbling steps until she steadied herself, her grip upon Lizzie’s arm tightening.
    Then they turned a corner and through the trees caught their first glimpse of the Capitol building, and they halted, insensible to the crowds milling about them. The flag of the Confederate States of America that Lizzie had glimpsed through the carriage window on Mary Jane’s wedding night was no longer flying atop the dome, replaced by the state flag of Virginia. Lizzie gazed up at the state seal upon the field of bold blue, the Roman goddess Virtus standing with spear and sword above a defeated enemy. The flag was too far away for her to read the motto emblazoned beneath the figures, but Lizzie knew it by heart. “ Sic semper tyrannis ,” she said quietly, watching the flag of her beloved Virginia snap and wave in the breeze. It was a small comfort that the flag of treason had been taken down, but Lizzie did not doubt that it would fly there again soon.
    “Oh, what will become of our city?” Eliza whispered, her voice breaking. “What will become of us?”
    “Don’t lose heart.” Perhaps it was the sight of the flag of Virginia, but suddenly Lizzie was filled with a sense of calm determination and resolve, stronger than she had ever felt. “We will endure. Whether it takes weeks or months, whatever comes, we will endure.”
    Eliza choked out a nervous laugh. “I wish I could be as brave as you. The sight of that flag makes me want to scurry home and draw the curtains.”
    “Well, then, that is precisely what we must not do.” Lizzie led her friend on at a brisker pace, head held high. “We cannot cower at home. Let us see what we’re up against.”
    Eliza nodded, assumed an air of confidence, and strode along beside her. As they approached the Capitol, the crowds swelled, the air shifted, and voices rose in jubilation. Young ladies and their beaux linked arms and sang “The Marseillaise” while cheerful, whistling clerks adorned shop windows with bunting and banners. People thronged around the bulletin boards posted outside the newspaper offices, jostling one another as they pressed forward, some exclaiming aloud at whatever it was they read there. On street corners and in front of hotels, officious gentlemen took down the names of younger fellows in small leather books, calling out for other volunteers to enlist, warning them that now was the time to choose their company rather than await a possible draft later and risk being stuck in an undesirable post. Lizzie shuddered and said a silent prayer of thanksgiving that John would surely be too old for a draft, if the rebel government decided to implement one. Elsewhere, she spotted other men, pale and silent, walking alone with their hands in their pockets and shoulders hunched, while others gathered in small groups, speaking quietly and exchanging furtive glances. She recognized a few—the red-haired, stocky Scottish baker; a tall, black-bearded man in a railroad engineer’s suit and cap—but most were strangers to her. The guarded anger in their eyes reminded her of John’s warning to conceal her feelings, and with great effort she relaxed her strained features and put on a vaguely pleasant smile.
    A block away from the Capitol, newsboys hawked extra editions of the Examiner, the Dispatch, and the Enquirer, and as eager customers flocked around them, Lizzie hesitated before joining the queue for the Examiner . She was reluctant to give a single penny to any of them, the Dispatch and the Enquirer least of all because of their annoying habit of referring to President Lincoln as a baboon or “the Illinois Ape.” Just as she was taking a coin from her pocket, a bright-eyed, beaming girl of