The venerable statesman from Connecticut bowed gravely to his Chief and spoke with quiet dignity. "I would order Anderson to return at once to Fort Moultrie--" Stanton smashed the table with his big fist. "And you know that the State of South Carolina has dismantled Fort Moultrie?" Toucey answered Stanton's bluster with quiet emphasis. "I'm aware of that fact, sir!" "And it makes no difference?" "None whatever. Anderson left Fort Moultrie and moved into Fort Sumter without orders--" A faint smile flickered about the drooping corners of Holt's mouth-- The speaker turned to Holt: "As a matter of fact, he moved into that fort against the positive orders of your predecessor, James B. Floyd, the Secretary of War. As he went there without orders, and against orders, he should be ordered back forthwith--" "With the look of a maddened tiger Stanton flew at him. "And you expect to go back to Connecticut after making that statement?" "I do, sir--" "I couldn't believe it." "And why, pray?" "I asked the question in good faith, that I might know the character of the people of Connecticut, or your estimate of them." The old man drew himself up with cold dignity. "I have served the people of my State for over forty years--their Congressman, their Attorney General, their Governor, their Senator. I consult no upstart of your feeble record, sir, on any question of principle or policy!" Stanton quailed a moment beneath the cold scorn of his antagonist, surprised that another man should dare to use his methods of invective. He lifted his hands with a gesture of contempt. "All I can say is, that if I should dare take that position and return to the State of Pennsylvania, I should expect to be stoned the moment I set foot on her soil, stoned through the State and flung into the river at Pittsburg with a stone around my neck--" Toucey stared at his opponent. "And in my opinion they would deserve well of their country for the performance!" While his Cabinet wrangled, the feeble, old man in the faded wrapper shambled to the window and gazed with watery eyes on the swaying trees of the White House grounds. The sleet had frozen in shining crystals and every limb was hung in diamonds. The wind had risen to hurricane force, howling and shrieking its requiem through the chill darkness. A huge bough broke and fell to the ground with a crash that sent a shiver through his distracted soul. He turned back to the table to hear their decision. It came with but one dissenting voice, Toucey, Secretary of the Navy. "A ship be sent at once to the relief of Sumter." With stubborn terror the President refused to sign the order for an armed vessel. At one o'clock they compromised on the little steamer, _Star of the West_, and Buchanan agreed that she should attempt to land provisions for Anderson's fifty-odd men.