l's
heart in closer and sweeter bonds. The love that kindled for the
handsome blond the day of their first meeting had grown into the
deathless passion of the woman for her mate.

He was restless Saturday night. Through the long hours she held her
breath to catch his regular breathing. He did not sleep.

At last the terror of it gripped her. Her hand touched his brow and
brushed the hair back from his forehead.

"What's the matter, John dear?"

"Restless."

"What is it?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just got to thinking about something and can't sleep.
That's all. Go to sleep now, like a good girl. I'm all right."

The little fingers sought his hand and gripped it.

"I'll try."

She rose at dawn. He had asked an early breakfast to make a long trip
into the country.

At the table she watched him furtively. She had asked to go with him and
he told her he couldn't take her. She wondered why. A great fear began
to steal into her soul. It was the first time she had dared to look into
the gulf. She would never ask his secret. He must tell her of his own
free will. Her eyes searched his. And he turned away without an answer.

He fought for self-control when he kissed her goodbye. A mad desire
swept his heart to take her in his arms, perhaps for the last time.

It would be a confession at the moment the blow was about to fall. He
would betray the lives of his associates. He gripped himself and left
her with a careless smile.

All day she brooded over the odd parting, the constraint, the silence,
the sleepless night.

She went to the services of the revival and sought solace in the songs
and prayers of the people. At night the minister preached a sermon
that soothed her. A warm glow filled her heart. If God is love as the
preacher said, he must know the secrets of his heart and life. He must
watch over and bring her lover safely back to her arms.

She reached home at a quarter to ten and went to bed humming an old song
Cook had taught her. The tired body was ready for sleep. She did
not expect her husband to return that night. He had gone as far as
Chambersburg. He promised to come on Monday afternoon.

Through the early hours of the fatal night she slept as soundly as a
child.

The firing at the Arsenal between three and four o'clock waked her. She
sprang to her feet and looked out the window. The street lamps flickered
fitfully in the drizzling rain. No one was passing. There were no
shouts, no disturbances.

S