CHAPTER X
LOVE'S HOME AND ANDREW SEVIER
And the Sabbath quiet which had descended on the frost-jeweled citythe morning after the hunt found the Buchanan household still deep inclose-shuttered sleep. Their fatigue demanded and was having its way inthe processes of recuperation and they all slept on serenely.
Only Caroline Darrah was astir with the first deep notes of the earlymorning bells. Her awaking had come with a rush of pure, bubbling,unalloyed joy which turned her cheeks the hue of the rose, starred hereyes and melted her lips into heavenly curves. In her exquisite innocenceit never dawned upon her that the moments spent in Andrew's arms underthe winter moon were any but those of rapturous betrothal and her lovehad flowered in confident happiness. It was well that she caught acrossthe distance no hint of the battle that was being waged in the heart ofAndrew Sevier, for the man in him fought (for her) with what he deemedhis honor, almost to the death--but not quite, for some men hold as honorthat which is strong sinewed with self-control, red blooded with courage,infiltrated with pride and ruthlessly cruel.
And so Caroline hummed David's little serenade to herself as she dressedwithout Annette's assistance and smiled at her own radiance reflected ather from her mirrors. She had just completed a most ravishing churchtoilet when she heard the major's door close softly and she knew that nowshe would find him before his logs awaiting breakfast.
She blushed another tone more rosy and her eyes grew shy at the verythought of meeting his keen eyes that always quizzed her with suchdelight after one of her initiations into the sports or gaieties of thisnew country. But assuming her courage with her prayer-book, she softlydescended the stairs, crossed the hall and stood beside his chair with alaugh of greeting.
"Well," he demanded delightedly though in a guarded tone with a glanceup as if at Mrs. Matilda's and Phoebe's closed doors, "did you catch yourpossum?"
"Yes--that is--no! I didn't, but somebody did I think," she answered withdelicious confusion in both tone and appearance.
"Caroline Darrah," demanded the major, "do you mean to tell me that thereis no certainty of anybody's having got a result from a foray of themagnitude of that last night? Didn't you even see a possum?"
"No, I didn't; but I know they caught some--David said so," answeredCaroline in a reassuring voice.
"Caroline," again demanded the major relentlessly, having already had hissuspicions aroused by her confusion and blushes, "where were you whenDavid Kildare caught those beasts that you didn't see one?"
"I was--was lost," she answered, and it surprised him that she didn't putone rosy finger-tip into her mouth, so very young was her furtherconfusion.
"Alone?" The major made his demand without mercy.
"No, sir, with Mr. Sevier--why, aren't you going to have breakfast,Major, it is almost church time?" and Caroline rallied her domesticdignity to her support as she escaped toward Temple's domain.
And the flush of joy that had flamed in her cheeks had lighted a glow inthe major's weather-tanned old face and his eyes fairly snapped withlight. Could it be that the boy had reached out for his atonement? Couldit be--he heard the front door close as the first church bell struck adeep note and at that moment Jeff announced his breakfast as ready in avoice of the deepest exhaustion.
And when Caroline emerged from the still darkened house into the crispair she found Andrew Sevier standing on the front steps waiting to walkinto church with her.
Her smile of shy joy as she held out her hand to him warmed his sombereyes for the moment.
"They are all asleep," she whispered as if even from the street there wasdanger of awakening the tired hunting party. "The major is keeping itquiet for them."
"And you ought to be asleep, too," he answered as they started off at abrisk pace down the avenue.
"_You_ weren't," she laughed up at him, and then dropped her eyes shyly."I always go to church," she added demurely.
"And I suppose I counted on your habit," he said, utterly unable tocontrol the tenderness in voice or glance.
"I wanted you to go with me to-day--I hoped you would though you neverhave," she answered him with a divine seriousness in her lifted eyes."They are all coming to dinner and then you'll go to the office, so Ihoped about this morning." She was utterly lovely in her gentlenessand a strange peace fell into the troubled heart of the man at her side.
And it followed him into the dim church and made the hour he sat at herside one of holy healing. Once as they knelt together during the serviceshe slipped her gloved hand into his for an instant and from its warmththere flowed a strength of which he stood in dire need and from which hedrew courage to go on for the few days remaining before his exile. Justto protect her, he prayed, and leave her unhurt, and he failed to seethat the humility and blindness of a great love were leading him into theperpetration of a great cruelty, to the undoing of them both.
Then in the long days that followed so hunted was he by his love of herthat that one hour of peace in the Sunday morning was all he dared givehimself with her. And in her gentle trustfulness it was not hard to makehis excuses, for the Monday morning brought the strenuosity inthe career of David Kildare to a state of absolute acuteness.
To the candidate the three days were as ten years crowded into as manyhours. Down at his headquarters in the _Gray Picket_ rooms he stood firmand met wave after wave of fluctuating excitement that surged around himwith his head up, a ring in his laugh and an almost superhuman tact.
As late as Wednesday noon there appeared before him three excitedAnti-Saloon League matrons with plans to put committees of ladies at allthe polls to hand out lemonade and entreaties--perhaps threats--to thevoters as they exercised their civic function. They had planned bannerswith "Shall The Saloon Have My Boy?" in large letters thereon inscribedand they were morally certain that without the carrying out of their planthe day would be lost. It took David Kildare one hour and a quarter topersuade them that it would be better to have a temperance rally at thetheater on Wednesday night at which each of the three should make mostconvincing speeches to the assembled women of the city, therebyfurnishing arguments to their sisters with which to start the men to thepolls next day.
He promised to come and make a short opening speech and they left himwith their plans changed but their enthusiasm augmented. David sank intoa chair and mopped his shining brow. The major had been witness to theencounter from the editorial desk and Cap Cantrell was bent double withlaughter behind a pile of papers he was searching for data for Andrew.
"I'm all in, Major," said David faintly. "Just pick up the pieces in abasket."
"David, sir," said the major, "your conduct of that onslaught wasmasterly! If the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world why not thehand that flips the batter-cake rock the ballot-box--cradle out of date?That's a little mixed but pertinent. I'm for letting them have thetry. They're only crying because they think we don't want 'em to haveit--maybe they'll go back to the cradle and rock all the better for beingfree citizens!"
"And not a cussed one of those three old lady cats has ever shown akitten!" exploded Cap from behind his pile of papers.
"Anyway, the worst is over now--must be!" answered David as he began toread over some bulletins and telegrams. But he had troubles yet to come.In the next two hours he had a conference with the head of the chamber ofcommerce which heated his blood to the boiling-point and brought forth anultimatum, delivered in no uncertain terms but with such perfect courtesyand clean-sightedness that the gentleman departed in haste to look intocertain matters which he now suspected to have been cooked to lead himastray.
This event had been followed by the advent of five of the old fellows whohad obtained furloughs and ridden in from the Soldiers' Home for theexpress purpose of assuring him of their support, as the vindicator oftheir honor, wringing his hand and cheering on the fight. They retiredwith Cap into the back room and emerged shortly, beaming and refreshed.They had no votes to cast in the city, but what matter?
On their heels, Mik
e O'Rourke rushed in with two budgets of falseregistrations which he had been able to ferret out by the aid of thedrivers of his grocery wagons. He embraced David, exchanged shots withthe major, and departed in high spirits. Then quiet came to the _GrayPicket_ for a time and Kildare plunged into his papers with desperation.
"David," called the major after a very few minutes of peace, "here's acall for you on the desk. You'll recognize the number--remember, a firmhand, sir--a firm hand!" with which he collected his hat, coat, and thecaptain and took his departure, leaving David for the moment alone in theeditorial rooms.
He sat for a few moments before the receiver and twisted the call sliparound one of his fingers. In a moment the affairs of state and thedestiny of the city slipped from his shoulders and his mind took up thedetails of another problem.
The contest for the judgeship was not the only one David Kildare hadtaken upon himself--the second was being waged in the secret chambers oftwo hearts, one proud, exacting and unconvinced, the other determined andat last thoroughly aroused. Phoebe had brought the crisis on herself andshe was beginning to realize that the duel would be to the death orcomplete surrender.
And in the preliminaries, which had been begun on the Saturday night huntand carried on for the last three days, David Kildare had failed to makea single false move. His natural and inevitable absorption in his racefor the judgeship had served to keep him from forcing a single issue; andPhoebe had had time to do a little lonely, unpursued thinking.
He had been entirely too clever to arouse her pride against him by asuspicion of neglect in his attitude. His usual attentions were alloffered and a new one or two contrived. He sent Eph to report to her withhis electric every afternoon--she understood that he was unable by theexigencies of the case to come himself to take her to keep herappointments as was his custom. Her flowers were just as thoughtfullyselected and sent with the gayest little notes, as like as possible tothe ones that had been coming to her for years. He ordered in anunusually large basket of eggs from the farm and managed to find acomplicated arrangement of rope and pulleys, the manipulation of whichfor an hour or more daily was warranted to add to or detract from thestature of man or woman, according to the desire of the dissatisfiedindividual. His note with the instrument was a scintillating skit and wasanswered in kind. But through it all Phoebe was undoubtedly lonely. Thiscall, the second since Saturday and the second in the history of theirjoint existences, betrayed her to the now wily David more than sherealized--perhaps!
He took down the receiver and got the connection.
"That you--dear?" David managed a casual voice with difficulty.
"Yes, David," came in a voice that fairly radiated across the city. "Ionly wanted to ask how it goes."
"Fine--with a rip! But you never can tell--about anything. I'm aPresbyterian and I'll die in doubt of my election. I'm learning not tocount on--things." His voice carried a mournful note that utterly beliedhis radiant face. David was enjoying himself to almost the mortal limit!
"David," there was a perceptible pause--"you--there is one thing you canalways count on--isn't there--_me_?" The voice was very gallant but alsoslightly palpitating. David almost lost his head but hung on tight andcame up right side.
"Some," he answered, which reply, in the light of an extremely modern useof the word combined with the legitimate, was calculated to bringconclusion. Then he hurried another offering on to the wire.
"How long are you going to be at home?" he asked--another dastardlytantalization.
"I--I don't know exactly," she parried quickly. "Why?" and this fromPhoebe who had always granted interviews like a queen gives jewels! Davidsomewhere found the courage to lay a firm hand on himself. With just afew more blows the citadel was his! His own heart writhed and theuncertainty made him quake internally.
"I wish I could come over, but there are two committees waiting in theother room for me. Do you--" a clash and buzz hummed over the wire intothe receiver. There was a jangle and tangle and a rough man's voice cutin with, "Working on the wires, hang up, please," and David limply hungup the receiver and collapsed in solitude, for his committees had beenevoked out of thin air.
His state of mind was positively abject. His years-old tenderness welledup in his heart and flooded to his eyes--the dash and the pluck of her!He reached for his hat, then hesitated; it was election eve and in twohours he was due to address the congregation of griddle-cake discontentson how to make men vote like ladies.
A call boy hurried in by way of a fortunate distraction and handed in abudget of papers. David spread them out before him. They were from SusieCarrie of the strong brush and the Civic Improvement League, containingSketches and specifications for the drinking fountains already pledged,and a request for an early institution of legislation on the play-groundproposition. Such a small thing as an uncertain election failed todaunt the artistic fervor of Susie Carrie's fertile brain or to deter herfrom making demands, however premature, on David the sympathetic.
And David Kildare dropped his head on the papers and groaned. TheVision of a life-work rose up and menaced him and the words "sweat of hisbrow" for the first time took on a concrete meaning. Such a good, old,care-free existence he was losing, and--he seized his hat and fledto the refreshment of bath, food and fresh raiment.
And on his way home he stopped in for a word with the major, whom hefound tired and on his way to take as much as he could of his usual nap.He was seated in his chair by the table and Caroline Darrah sat near him,listening eagerly to his story of some of the events in the day'scampaign. She rose as David entered and held out her hand to him with asmile.
Every time David had looked at Caroline Darrah for the few days past asharp pain had cut into his heart and this afternoon she was so radiantlylovely with sympathy and interest that for a moment he stood looking ather with his eyes full of tenderness. Then he managed a bantering smileand backed away a step or two from her, his hands behind him.
"No, you don't, beautiful," David sometimes ventured on Phoebe's name forthe girl, "you are so sweet in that frock that I'm afraid if I touch youI'll stick. Somebody ought to label such a lollypop as you dangerous.Call her off, Major!"
The major laughed at Caroline's blush and laid his fingers over her handthat rested on the corner of the table near him.
"David," he said, "girls are confections to which it is good for a man toforsake all others and cling--but not to gobble. Matilda, recount toDavid Kildare your plans for the night of the election. I wish to witnesshis joy."
"Oh, yes, I've been wanting to tell you about it for two days, David,dear," answered Mrs. Buchanan from her chair over by the window where shewas busily engaged in checking names off a long list with a pencil. "Weare going to have a reception at the University Club so everybody cancome and congratulate you the night of the election. Mrs. Shelby and Ithought it up and of course we had to speak to one of the house committeeabout the arrangements, and who do you think the member was--Billy Bob! Ijust talked on and didn't notice Mrs. Shelby and finally he was so niceand deferential to her that she talked some, too. She almost started toshake hands with him when we left. I was so glad. I feel that it isgoing to be a delightful success in every way. Please be thinking up anice speech to make."
"Oh, wait," groaned David Kildare, "if I begin now I will have to thinkdouble, one for election and one for defeat. Last night I dreamed about ablack cat that was minus a left eye and limped in the right hind leg.Jeff almost cried when I told him about it. He hasn't smiled since."
"I told Tempie to put less pepper in those chicken croquettes lastnight--I saw Phoebe's light burning until two o'clock and heard her andCaroline laughing and talking even after that. The major was so nervousthat he was up and dressed at six o'clock. I must see that all of you getsimpler food--your nerves will suffer. Major, suppose you don't eatmuch dinner--just have a little milk toast. I'll see Tempie about itnow!" and Mrs. Buchanan departed after bestowing a glance, in which was aconviction of dyspepsia, upon all three of them.
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br /> "Now, David Kildare, see what you've done with your black-cat crawlings!I'll have to eat that toast--see if I don't! I've consumed it with asmile during stated periods for thirty years. Yes, girl-love is a kindof cup-custard, but wife-love is bread and butter--milk toast, forinstance--bless her! But I am hungry!" The major's expression was atragedy.
"I'm going to try and beg you off, Major, dear," said Caroline Darrah,and she hurried after Mrs. Matilda into Tempie's domain.
"Major," said David as he gazed after the girl, "when I look at her Ifeel cold all over, then hot-mad! He's going to-morrow night on themidnight train--and she doesn't know! I can't even talk to himabout it--he looks like a dead man and works like a demon. I don't knowwhat to do!"
"David," said the major slowly as he pressed the tips of his long leanfingers together and regarded them intently, "how love, tender wise love,love that is fed on heart's blood and lives by soul-breath, can go deaf,blind, dumb, halt, broken-winged, idiotic and mortally cruel is more thanI can see. God Almighty comfort him when he finds what he has done!"
"And if she does find it out she won't understand," exclaimed David.
"No," answered the major, "she doesn't even suspect anything. She thinksit is the press of his work that keeps him away from her. The childcarries about with her that aura of transport that only an acknowledgmentfrom a lover can give a woman. I had hoped that he had seen some way--Icouldn't ask! I wonder--"
"Yes, Major," interrupted David quickly, and he winced as he spoke, "ithappened on the hunt Saturday evening. They climbed the bluff and watchedthe hunt from a distance and I saw how it was the minute they came backto the campfire. I saw it and I was just jolly happy over it even to thetune of Phoebe's sulks--I thought it was all right, and I wish you couldhave seen him. His head was up and his eyes danced and he gave up almostthe first real laugh I ever heard from him, when I teased her aboutgetting lost. As I looked at him I thought about the other, your gladAndrew, Major, and I was happy all in a shot for you, because I thoughtyou were going to get back something of what you'd lost. It all seemedso good!"
"There's been joy in the boy's eyes, joy and sorrow waging a war forweeks, David, and I've had to sit by and watch, powerless to help him.Yes, his very father himself has looked out of his eyes at me for momentsand I--well I had hoped. Are you sure he is going?" As the major askedthe question his brows knotted themselves together as if to hide the painin his eyes.
"Yes, he's going and he catches the next tramp steamer for Panama fromSavannah. I wish she would suspect something and force it from him. It'sstrange she doesn't," answered David despondently.
"Caroline Darrah belongs to the order of humble women whose love feeds ona glance and can be sustained on a crumb--another class demands a banquetfull spread and always ready. You'll be careful, boy, don't--don't dietPhoebe too long!" The major eyed David anxiously across the light.
"Heavens, I'm your reconcentrado! Major, I feel as if I'd been shut updown cellar in the cold without the breath of life for a year. It's onlythree days and thirteen hours and a half; but I'm all in. I go deadwithout her--believe I'll telephone her now!" And David reached forthe receiver that stood on the major's table.
"Now, David," said the major, restraining his eager hand and smilingthrough his sadness, "don't try to gather your grapes over the phone! Ijudge they are ripe, but they still hang high--they always will! Look atthe clock!"
David took one look at the staid old mahogany timepiece, which the majorhad had brought in from Seven Oaks and placed in the corner opposite histable, and took his departure.
And after he had gone the major retired to his room to lie down for asmuch of his allotted rest as he could obtain. Seeing him safely settled,Mrs. Buchanan went over for a short visit with Mrs. Shelby next door.Mrs. Matilda stuck to the irate grandmother through thick and thin and inher affectionate heart she had hopes of bringing about the much to bedesired reconciliation. She was the only person in the city who daredmention Milly or the babies to the old lady and even in herunsophistication she suspected that the details she supplied withdetermined intrepidity fed a hunger in the lonely old heart. Herpilgrimage next door was a daily one and never neglected.
Thus left alone Caroline Darrah was partaking of a solitary cup of tea,which was being served her by Tempie in all the gorgeousness of a newwhite lace-trimmed and beruffled apron which Caroline had made for heras near as possible like the dainty garments affected by the Frenchshop-clad Annette, who was Temple's special ally and admirer, when Mrs.Cherry Lawrence, in full regalia, descended upon her. Tempie walled herblack eyes and departed with dignity for an extra cup.
The major was fast asleep, David Kildare in the processes of bath andtoilet, Phoebe at her desk down-town and Mrs. Matilda away on hermission, and thus it happened that nobody was near to fend the blightfrom the flower of their anxious cherishing.
"Yes, indeed, it is a time of anxiety," Mrs. Cherry agreed with Carolineas she crushed the lemon in her tea. "I shall be glad when it is over. Ifeel that we all are making the utmost sacrifices for this electionof David Kildare's, and he's such a boy that he probably will make aperfectly impossible judge. He never takes anything seriously enough toaccomplish much. It's well for him that no one expects anything fromhim."
"Oh, but I'm sure he's taking this seriously," exclaimed Caroline Darrahwith a little gleam of dismay in her eyes. "His race has been anexceptional one whether he wins or not. The major says so and theother day Mr. Sevier told me--" At the mention of Andrew Sevier's nameMrs. Cherry glanced around and an ugly little gleam came into her eyes.
"Oh, of course Andrew Sevier is too loyal to admit any criticism of Davidto a _stranger_," she said with a slight emphasis on the word and a coldglance at Caroline Darrah.
"But he wasn't talking to a stranger, he was talking just to me," saidCaroline quickly, not even seeing the dart aimed.
"You are so sweet, dear!" purred Mrs. Cherry. "Under the circumstances itis so gracious of you not to feel yourself a stranger with us all andespecially with Andrew Sevier. Of course it would have been impossiblefor him always to have avoided you and it was just like his generosity--"
"Miss Ca'line, honey," came in a decided voice from the doorway, "thatcustard you is a-making for the major's supper is actin' curisome aroundthe aiges. Please, ma'am, come and see ter it a minute!"
"Oh, excuse me just a second," exclaimed Caroline Darrah to Mrs. Cherryas she rose with alarm in her housewifely heart and hurried past Tempiedown the hall.
An instinct engendered by her love for Caroline Darrah had led Tempie tonotice and resent something in Mrs. Lawrence's manner to the child onseveral previous occasions and to-day she had felt no scruples aboutremaining behind the curtains well within ear-shot of the conversations.Her knowledge of, and participation in, the Buchanan family affairs, pastand present and future, was an inheritance of several generations and shenever hesitated to assert her privileges.
"Lady," she said in a cool soft voice as she squared herself in thedoorway and looked Mrs. Lawrence directly in the face, "you is a richwhite woman and I's a poor nigger, but ef you had er secceeded ina-putting that thare devil's tale into my young mistess's head they woulder been that 'twixt you and me that we never would er forgot; and therewouldn't a-been more'n a rag left of that dead-husband-bought frock whatyou've got on. Now 'fore I fergits myself I axes you out the frontdoor--and I'm a-fergittin' fast."
And as she faced the domineering woman in her trappings of fashion allthe humble blood in the negro's veins, which had come down to her fromthe forewomen who had cradled on their black breasts the mothers of suchas Caroline Darrah, was turned into the jungle passion for defense ofthis slight white thing that was the child of her heart if not of herbody. The danger of it made Mrs. Lawrence fairly quail, and, white withfright, she gathered her rich furs about her and fled just as CarolineDarrah's returning footsteps were heard in the hall.
"Why, where did Mrs. Lawrence go, Tempie?" she demanded in astonishment.Tempie had just the mo
ment in which to rally herself but she hadaccomplished the feat, though her eyes still rolled ominously.
"She 'membered something what she forgot and had ter hurry. She lef'scuses fer you," and Tempie busied herself with the cups and tray.
"She was beginning to say something queer to me, Tempie, when you camein. It was about Mr. Sevier and I didn't understand. I almost felt thatshe was being disagreeable to me and it frightened me--about him. I--"
"Law, I spects you is mistook, chile, an' if it war anything she jestwants him herself and was a-laying out ter tell you some enflirtment shehad been a-trying ter have with him. Don't pay no 'tention to it." Bythis time she had regained her composure and was able to reassureCaroline with her usual positiveness to which she added an amount ofworldly tact in substituting a highly disturbing thought in place of thedangerous one.
"Do you really think she can be in love with--with him, Tempie?" demandedCaroline Darrah, wide-eyed with astonishment. She was entirely divertedfrom any desire to follow out or weigh Mrs. Lawrence's remark to her bythe wiliness of the experienced Tempie.
"They ain't no telling what widder women out fer number twos _will_ do,"answered Tempie sagely. "Now, you run and let Miss Annette put that bluefrock on you 'fore dinner. In times of disturbance like these here womenoughter fix theyselves up so as ter 'tice the men ter eat a little atmeal times. Ain't I done put on this white apron ter try and git that no'count Jefferson jest ter take notice a little uv his vittals. Now go on,honey--it's late."
And thus the love of the old negro had taken away the only chance givenCaroline Darrah to learn the facts of the grim story, from the knowledgeof which she might have worked out salvation for her lover and herself.
An hour later as they were being served the soup by the absorbed andinattentive Jeff, Mrs. Matilda laid down her spoon and said to Carolineanxiously:
"I wish Phoebe had come out to-night. I asked her but she said she wastoo busy. She looked tired. Do you suppose she could be ill?"
"Yes," answered the major dryly, "I feel sure that Phoebe is ill. She isat present, I should judge, suffering with a malady which she has had forsome time but which is about to reach the acute stage. It needs judiciousignoring so let's not mention it to her for the present."
"I understand what you mean, Major," answered his wife with delightedeyes, "and I won't say a word about it. It will be such a help to Davidto have a wife when he is the judge. How long will it be before he can bethe governor, dear?"
"That depends on the wife, Mrs. Buchanan, to a large extent," answeredthe major with a delighted smile.
"Oh, Phoebe will want him to do things," said Mrs. Matilda positively.
"No doubt of that," the major replied. "I see David Kildare slated forthe full life from now on--eh, Caroline?"
And the major had judged Phoebe's situation perhaps more rightly than herealized, for while David led the vote-directors' rally at the theaterand later was closeted with Andrew for hours over the last editorialappeal in the morning _Journal_, Phoebe sat before her desk in her ownlittle down-town home. Mammy Kitty was snoring away like a peacefulwatch-dog on her cot in the dressing-room and the whole apartment wasdark save for the shaded desk-light.
The time and place were fitting and Phoebe was summoning her visions--andfacing her realities. Down the years came sauntering the nonchalantfigure of David Kildare. He had asked her to marry him that awful,lonely, sixteenth birthday and he had asked her the same thing everyyear of all the succeeding ten--and a number of times in between. Phoebesquared herself to her reviewing self and admitted that she had cared forhim then and ever since--_cared_ for him, but had starved his tendernessand in the lover had left unsought the man. But she was clear-sightedenough to know that the handsome easy-going boy, who had wooed with asmile and taken rebuff with a laugh, was not the steady-eyed forceful manwho now faced her. He stood at the door of a life that stretched awayinto long vistas, and now he would demand. Phoebe bowed her head on herhands--suppose he should not demand!
And so in the watches of the night the siege was raised and Phoebe, thedauntless, brilliant, arrogant Phoebe had capitulated. No love-lorn womanof the ages ever palpitated more thoroughly at the thought of her loverthan did she as she kept vigil with David across the city.
But there were articles of capitulation yet to be signed and the ceremonyof surrender to come.
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