Both were much older and taller than he,
and very different altogether from this square-built, rough-mannered
youth. But they may have felt the power that was his as well as theirs,
for neither gave a sign of the impatience that both were quick to feel
and almost as quick to show. Peter Cartwright was gazing steadily up
into General Jackson's eagle eyes--which few could face, which turned
many a stout heart from a firm purpose--without swerving for an instant
from what he meant to do.
[Illustration: "'I wanted to shake the hand of a man like you.'"]
"This is General Jackson, I believe," he said.
Andrew Jackson bent his haughty head. His gaze was now enough to make
the bravest flinch. But the young preacher went on without the slightest
flinching.
"I have been told, sir, that you wanted to see me. I am Peter
Cartwright. I understand that you intend to chastise me for what I said
at the camp-meeting. Well, here I am."
Andrew Jackson stared at him silently for a moment, as if he did not get
the drift of the words. And then he suddenly burst into a great roar.
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