Waters gazed into the fire half abstractedly.  “Three of us were named,” he said, “to have a conference with General Johnson.”  He turned to her, his eyes aglow, “I’ll never forget that meeting.  He asked us to be seated with his usual courtesy.  Then he said, quite matter-of-factly ... in an off-hand sort of way, ’There’s something I want to mention before we go further.  I’ve heard some foolish talk about attempts to seize the strongholds of the government under my charge.  So I’ve prepared for all emergencies.’  His eyes flashed as he added, ’I will defend the property of the United States with every resource at my command, with the last drop of blood in my body.  Tell that to your Southern friends.’”

“And your plot?”

“It’s been abandoned.”

“Thank God,” Alice exclaimed fervently.

“And thank yourself a little,” he commented, smiling.

“General Johnson is a brave and honorable gentleman,” Alice said.  “I wonder—­who could have informed him?”

Waters looked at her quickly.  But he did not voice the thought upon his tongue.

* * * * *

April 24 General E.V.  Sumner arrived with orders to take charge of the department of the Pacific.  General Johnson’s resignation was already on its way to Washington.

On the following morning came the news that Southern forces had attacked Fort Sumpter.

CHAPTER LVI

SOME WAR REACTIONS

San Francisco adjusted itself to war conditions with its usual impulsive facility.  Terry, who had resigned from the Supreme bench following Broderick’s death, and who had passed through the technicalities of a farcical trial, left for Texas.  He joined the Southern forces and for years California knew him no more.  Albert Sydney Johnson, after being displaced by General Sumner, offered his services to Jefferson Davis and was killed at Shiloh.  Edward Baker, now a Senator from Oregon, left the halls of Congress for a Union command.  At the head of the California volunteer regiment he charged the enemy at Ball’s Bluff and fell, his body pierced by half a dozen bullets.  Curiously different was the record of Broderick’s old foeman, William Gwin.  In October, 1861, he started East via the Isthmus of Panama, accompanied by Calhoun Benham, one of Terry’s seconds in the fateful duel.  On the same steamer was General Sumner, relieved of his command in San Francisco, en route to active service.  Convinced that Gwin and Benham plotted treason, he ordered their arrest, but not before they threw overboard maps and other papers.  They escaped conviction.  But Gwin found Paris safer than America—­until the war had reached its close.

When the first call came for volunteers by way of the pony express, Benito and Adrian talked of enlisting.  Even thirteen-year Francisco, to his mother’s horror, spoke of going as a drummer boy.