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Victoria expresses her displeasure to the other crowned heads. The politicians who can make decisions will be recalled, and all that will be left behind will be delegations of second raters and timeservers... who will of course block any real agreements and will only drag their feet. I am afraid that this congress, that looked so promising, is going to be a rehearsed performance, with very little to show as a result."
    Lincoln nodded. "Well, we must do our part and not retreat at the first volley. Performance or not, we will sit it out. The British cannot blame us for threatening the peace of Europe—or standing in the way of any trade agreements."

    Pierce's predictions proved to be most exact. There were discussions of the agenda, but they were all between minor officials as the leaders of the delegations slipped away one by one. At the end of the first week Lincoln did the same.
    "Too much talk, too little action," he said. "Ambassador Pierce, I am putting you in charge of this delegation while I attend to pressing business in Washington."
    Pierce nodded gloomily. "I understand, Mr. President. General Sherman—might I count upon your assistance?"
    "Regrettably no. I will accompany the President to Ostend, where the battle cruiser USS Dictator is still tied up. We know that you will do your best."
    Pierce sighed and nodded his head. The conference, which had held out such great hope, was now an empty shell, with only minor officials like himself keeping it going. He looked on gloomily as the presidential party departed.
    "And you two, are you sure that you won't tell me what you are up to? What mysterious matters take you with me to Ostend?" Lincoln asked Fox and Sherman, once the three of them were in their closed carriage, his interest still piqued by their prolonged silence.
    "We dare not," Fox said. "If even a whisper gets out of what we are doing—well, I am afraid that the international consequences might very well be disastrous."
    "Now you really do have me interested." Lincoln raised his hand. "But I shall not ask again. But please reassure me that you will report to me as soon as your mission has been accomplished."
    "You shall be the first to know—that I promise."
    Back in his room at the hotel, General Sherman took his clothes from the drawers of the dresser and laid them on the bed. Then he unlocked his suitcase. There was a sheet of paper inside that had not been there when he had closed it many days ago. He held it in the light from the window and read:
    You are being watched closely by British agents.
    Proceed with the President and board the USS Dictator.
    Mr. Fox will receive further instructions.
    The communication was unsigned.
    Arrangements had been made well in advance and an entire railroad car reserved for the presidential party—as well as for the numerous armed officers of a household regiment. King Leopold would be very relieved when the Americans were safely aboard the warship in Ostend—but in the meantime they were to be closely guarded. The journey was a quick one, first by train and then by carriage. Sherman had barely set foot aboard the vessel when he was summoned by a sailor to the officers' wardroom. Gus Fox was waiting there, accompanied by a puzzled-looking naval officer. Fox introduced them.
    "General Sherman, this is Commander William Wilson, the second officer of this vessel. The commander was a chartered surveyor before he attended Annapolis and began his naval career."
    "A pleasure to meet you, Commander," Sherman said, having a strong inkling of what Fox had in mind. When Fox next spoke his suspicions proved correct.
    "I told Commander Wilson only the bare fact that you and I were undertaking a mission of great importance to our country. As well as one that might be highly dangerous. As a serving officer, he could of course be ordered to accompany us. However, considering the secrecy—not to mention the delicacy—of this assignment, I felt that the decision must be left up