Lee shifted uncomfortably. The thought of European soldiers again tramping across the Western Hemisphere left him uncomfortable. It struck at the almost hereditary spirit, inculcated into his blood, that this hemisphere was a world to be left alone by the monarchies of Europe.

Davis smiled as he scanned Judah's notes.

"How long?" Davis asked.

"It went out under a fast packet, flying French colors so it could not be stopped by the blockade."

With that, Judah grinned. Fort McHenry still held, a ring of Union warships lying out in the harbor. No ships had been allowed in since the city fell, but through a nice sleight of legal hand, a ship's ownership had been reassigned to a French company, and by international law it could not then be prevented from sailing. The incident two years earlier of Confederate diplomats being stopped on the high seas by the Union navy aboard a ship flying English colors had almost precipitated war, and since then the Lincoln administration had been careful to a fault to avoid a repeat. The ship had been allowed to pass, with the consul's assistant on board.

"The ship should arrive within the week in France. Maybe as early as three or four days from now if the passage is smooth. We paid extra for the fastest ship in the harbor and a full load of fuel on board. A month from now we might hear the results."

A group of civilian well-wishers came down and the president stood up, extending his hand, Lee standing as well and then backing away from the crowd, though for several minutes he had to endure a small crowd of young ladies who gathered around him, beaming, pressing him with questions, which he politely answered until Walter came up to him with the "usual" excuse that there were some "urgent issues that needed to be addressed."

Grateful as always for Walter's tactful help, he moved away from the crowd. Benjamin detached himself as well and walked over to Lee's side. Without comment the two drifted away, walking down to the line of artillery pieces, the gunners swabbing the bores clean. At Lee's approach a gunnery captain sensed that the general wanted some privacy, and detailed the men off. Lee returned the man's salute and nodded his head in thanks.

The storm from the west was coming closer and the other gun crews were laying tarps over limber chests and gun barrels. The breeze was cool, refreshing.

"I assume the president told you he is returning to Richmond tomorrow?" Benjamin asked.

"Yes, he mentioned it just before the review."

"But I'll be staying on for a while."

Lee smiled. He had developed a genuine affection for Benjamin, whereas the presence of Davis had seriously disrupted the routine at headquarters and imposed significantly on his own time, with Davis asking for daily conferences, discussions, and meetings with various representatives from Maryland. It was a political side of his job that he was glad to be freed from.

Lee looked across the field. He was used to a large degree of independence in his operations, answering to no one, and to have Davis now sitting in on every council of war, and attempting to be, at times, part of the planning, had made things difficult

"Impressive review today, General Lee."

Yes, it had indeed been impressive, and for a moment he had allowed it to sweep him away. There was something about tens of thousands of troops, massed together, the cheering, the music, the precision of columns on the march, that stirred his soul like nothing else. At such moments one did indeed feel invincible. War had changed so much since he had taken the oath on the plains of West Point so many years ago, but the moments of pageantry had not gone away, and they masked the illusion of what the real purpose was.

He had agreed to the pressure exerted by the president to make another try on Washington, though he felt it would be an exercise in futility, except for one hope, that by threatening the capital yet again, it just might dislodge Grant, Sickles, or both from their inaccessible enclaves north of the Susquehanna.

The ring was beginning to tighten and Lee knew it Davis had impressed upon him for the last three weeks that the thought of Baltimore falling back into Union hands was intolerable, and he had to agree, that now, after taking it after the public joining of Maryland to the Confederacy-though there had been no real benefit from that so far other than grist for the newspapers-they could not let it fall.

That meant he was tied to this region and now to an essentially defensive posture of holding the city, but at the same time forced to make another try on Washington.

And every day, he knew, the Union forces were getting stronger in spite of Union Mills, in spite of the riots, in spite of the governor of New York declaring that his regiments would only go to Sickles. In spite of all that, Grant was building.

The first heavy drops of rain came down, carrying with them that warm, rich scent of an approaching storm. Flashes of lightning snapped across the sky, the rolling booms of the thunder coming now like a counterpoint to the salvos fired by the guns.

Lee looked around; he did not want to go back to the pavilion. A headquarters tent for one of the batteries stood just behind a row of Napoleons, and the two made for it. Yet again, the men, seeing Lee approach, stiffened, saluted, looking deferential.

He hated to roust them out of their shelter but he wanted a few minutes alone with Judah before the party. He knew Judah would enjoy himself tonight, and he wanted the man now, when his mind was still clear.

Lee made eye contact with a major, who stood before him nervously.

"Major, I truly hate to disturb you," Lee said quietly. "But may I ask your indulgence? The secretary and I need to talk."

"An honor, sir," the major said, obviously delighted that his tent had been so chosen, and he guided his men off.

Lee and Benjamin stepped under the awning and faced the storm, watching as the wall of rain approached, lashing the opposite crest.

"I'd like to talk frankly, General Lee," Judah said, looking straight over at him.

"I hope you would do just that."

"I believe France will enter the war, but any hopes for England I doubt now, and they are the strength we really need. If Napoleon III comes in, the English will just smile and sit back, waiting to see him take a major defeat. The Prussians would enjoy that as well. The effect you created at Union Mills will have far-reaching consequences, General Lee."

"The maneuvering between European powers was never part of my intent. All I want to do is finish this war."

The rain swept across the field, driving the two back into the tent From the pavilion they could hear shouts, laughter, some cries of distress.

"The conversation with Rabbi Rothenberg," Lee said, lowering his head. "I've dwelt on it ever since."

"I have, too."

"Did you broach the subject to the president?"

"Yes, I did. Twice now. He has categorically refused to even consider it. He says that we are on the edge of a final victory. To make such a concession now would actually be a sign of weakness, according to him. He even suggested that some states might even secede from the Confederacy if we attempted it."

Lee sighed. That thought had of course occurred to him. What an absurdity, but then again, what was to prevent it? After all, once the Union was broken, the precedent had been set. Yes, perhaps several of the states, so dependent were they on the slave economy, just might do that One final suicidal gesture.

"All my arguments failed, even the foreign policy advantage with England, which I pushed the hardest. He is confident the war will be resolved by October, and even if we did what the rabbi said, it would be six months or more before it would begin to impact the British government, while on the other hand Napoleon can pretty well do as he pleases, whenever he wants."