She glowered at them, her gaze darting from face to face.
She knew them all, in some fashion or another. Shed received letters from many of them, begging, accompanied by money, all of them essentially the same: They say this man is done for, but at the Robertson he may have a chance.
When they prayed to God, they prayed for her.
And still they treated her like a fondly regarded pet, a reliable watchdog, or a steadfast mule.
While she still had them stunned into uncomfortable silence, she lowered her voice, steadied it, and continued. Out on the western coast, in the Washington Territory, a substance seeps from the grounda toxic gas, which kills anyone who breathes it. But the people it kills dont lie down and rot. They walk, they hunt, and they feed. The gas is largely confined to a walled, partially abandoned city called Seattle, but its ill effects have scaled the walls and headed east in the form of a drugsometimes called sap, sometimes saffron which has become terribly popular with fighting men on both sides of the Mason-Dixon.
Conjecture! cried Morgan Cluskey, who sat back in his chair with an impatient sigh.
His sigh gave Boyd Caperton the nudge he needed. Caperton caught Sallys arm again, and this time, she could not shake him loose.
As he determinedly, carefully ushered her off the speakers stand, she called out over her shoulder, Men are dyingmore men than I ever saved at the Robertson! And if you thinkshe tripped over Capertons foot, and recoveredif you think itll stop with the soldiers, with the poor men from the Southern fields and the Northern factories, youre idiots, every last one of you! The problem grows bigger every day.
Were aware of this drug, Captain Sally, said Wellers Chrisman. But its a Union problem. Who cares if the illiterate Italians blast themselves senseless?
Frantic now, she grabbed the edge of a table. That bought her another few seconds while her escort tried to figure out how to more forcibly accost a lady without being too ungallant in front of God and everybody.
Exactly how many Union soldiers do you think I treat at the Robertson, Mr. Chrisman? Its our boys, too, and weve got fewer of them to lose. Take off your blinders and take action while theres still time. Gentlemen, the world will judge us by the steps we take right now. The whole globe is in danger!
Her grasp on the table edge failed. She lost a few steps, then caught herself on the door frame. But before Caperton pushed her out with
absolute finality, he bowed his head so that his lips came close to her ear, and his breath lightly tousled the stray curl that dangled there. Captain Sally, you put us in a difficult position.
She turned her head so fast that it cracked his face. More difficult than mine?
He let go of her, then, so he could hold his nose, waiting for it to start bleeding. It didnt, so he removed his hand. This isnt a problem of war. Its a social issue.
Its a disease! She tried another angle, pleading now. A disease spread by soldiers, not so different from cholera or typhoid. That makes it an issue of war, does it not?
Not on the word of one nurse.
One nurse, fine. What about two? What about a dozen? A thousand? How many nurses will it take, Mr. Caperton?
Youre missing the point. Bring me a doctor, and let him testify. In the meantime, the Confederacy thanks you for your service, but you must return to your duties and let the men run the war.
Which youve done a bang-up job of thus far.
He didnt answer. He only shepherded her through the last great door and shut her out of the proceedings with heavy, slow calmness.
He leaned against the door then, holding it shut even though she no longer pushed or knocked. All eyes were on him. He wiped at his nose once more, in case itd begun to bleed after all. But no. He was not injured, just unsettled. He cleared his throat. Gentlemen. Now that the matter is resolved, let us return to business.
The room sighed its relief with a rustle of papers and the creaks of men shifting in their seats, suddenly more at ease. The fifteenth Congress of the Confederacy was in session still, in its enormous hall with gilt ceiling, leaded and colored glass windows, and polished wood trimall designed to advertise and reassure that Danville was not finished, and certainly not broke.
In the far corner, a young man still in his teens wrote feverishly, recording the minutes in his cleanest Pitman shorthand. He captured every word faithfully, scrawling like a phonography racehorse, noting the last bits of the tense exchange between Captain Sally and Congressman Caperton. He even dutifully included the muttered gripe of Robert Welch, whod complained, Shouldnt have let a woman address the floor in the first place, rank or no rank. Let her take her pride in it, but give her no privileges apart from cashing checks.
Above and behind the stenographer, on the second-story balcony that ran around the congressional hall, a board creaked under a finely heeled boot, and a spindly white cobweb was swept aside by the long hem of a cotton skirt.