“So the ticket was procured and Mary was off with a good-bye, taking with her a full statement of the case made out by Jackson, also his letter, and a letter from me to the President. Under the circumstances this was a painful trip to her--the anxiety as to her success; the fact that she knew nothing about the family in whose behalf she was enlisted. She a stranger to the President, how should she approach him? What could she say to him? Suppose he would refuse to interpose in behalf of the boy? And a thousand inquiries would come to her mind to annoy her. She slept none on her way, but finally arrived safely in Washington, and went directly to the Executive Mansion without stopping to take a mouthful of food or a moment's repose. “When she reached the threshold of the mansion she came near fainting; her courage and strength both seemed to leave her all at once. Presently her strength returned, and she asked to be admitted. The usher said, 'I will see,' and took her name to the President; also my letter. The President was alone. She could not speak. The President came forward and took her by the hand and greeted her most kindly, saying that he almost knew her; that he knew much of her through me, as I had spoken of her in connection with her husband. The President said: “'Your brave husband is so well known to me through my friend Mr. Lyon, and through his daring on the field, that you would need no introduction more than that I should know who you are; and I take it that you are on an errand of mercy, as I am sure you could not be here to ask anything for your husband, as I would do anything for him, as he knows, merely for the asking by himself or my friend Lyon.' “'No, Mr. President; you will never be troubled by me in that way. I am truly on an errand of mercy and justice'; and here she broke down and wept. “When she recovered she said: “'Mr. President, my errand is to save the destruction of a good family.' “She then recited the facts as to the two old people, and that Seraine, the only daughter, was now on an errand of mercy South somewhere. “The President replied that he remembered giving her a letter at the request of his friend Daniel Lyon, and said: “'My dear Mrs. Anderson, there is hardly anything that I would not do for any of Mr. Lyon's family, as well as Gen. Anderson and yourself; and, certainly, if to prevent a calamity to such a family as you describe Mr. Whitcomb's to be, I would do anything that would be proper and reasonable for me to do.' “She was very much encouraged by these remarks, and began to feel more at ease. “The President, seeing this, asked her many questions about her husband's health, and also about my family. When she spoke of Stephen's foul murder, the President walked the floor and remarked: “'Most diabolical--fiendish.'” (“Little did he or she then suppose that it was her own brother that had committed this wicked and cruel murder.”)