place of liberty, in spite of the applause and enthusiasm 
created by his presence, was set in a sad, meditative calm. 
Cowperwood, passing by on the other side of the street, 
detained temporarily by the crowd and the curiosity in 
himself that the occasion prompted, saw the great, tall, 
shambling figure, and was interested in spite of himself. 
He looked at him fixedly as he issued from the doorway 
surrounded by chiefs of staff, local dignitaries, detectives, 
and the curious, sympathetic faces of the public. As he 
studied the strangely rough-hewn countenance a sense 
of great worth and dignity came over him. 
"A real man, that," he thought; "a wonderful tempera- 
ment." He could not explain why the singular appear- 
ance of the statesman appealed to him so, but his every 
gesture came upon him with great force. He watched 
him enter his carriage, thinking " So that is the rail- 
splitter, the country lawyer. Well, fate has picked a 
great man for this crisis." 
For days the face of the man haunted him, and then, 
through all the years of the war until Lincoln's assassina- 
tion, he had nothing but good to think of this singular 
figure. It seemed to him unquestionable that fortui- 
tously he had been permitted to look upon one of the 
world's really great men. War and statesmanship were 
not for him; but now he knew how important those things 
were—at times.