league. With his one Browning revolver David held them all
at bay, firing from every window of the house in turn, so as to give
the besiegers an impression of a large defensive force. At last his
cartridges were exhausted--to procure cartridges is the greatest
difficulty of our self-defence corps--they began battering in the big
front-door. David, seeing further resistance was useless, calmly drew
back the bolts, to the mob's amaze, and, as it poured in, he cried:
'Back! back! They have bombs!' and rushed into the street, as if to
escape the explosion. The others followed wildly, and in the panic
David ran down a dark alley, and disappeared in search of a new post
of defence. Though the door stood open, and the cowering inhabitants
were at their mercy, the assailants, afraid to enter, remained for
over an hour at a safe distance firing at the house, till it was
riddled with bullets. They counted nearly two hundred the next day,
embedded in the walls or strewn about the rooms. And not a thing had
been stolen--not a hooligan had dared enter. But David is only a type
of the young generation--there are hundreds of Davids equally ready to
take the field against Goliath. And shall I not rejoice, shall I not
exult even unto tears?' Her eyes glowed, and the musician was kindled
to equal fire. It seemed to him less a girl who was speaking than
Truth and Purity and some dead muse of his own. 'The Pale that I
left,' she went on, 'was truly a prison. But now--now it will be the
forging-place of a regenerated people! Oh, I am counting the days till
I can be back!'

'You are going back to Russia!' he gasped.

He had the sensation of cold steel passing through his heart. The
_pogroms_, which had been as remote to him as the squabbles of
savages in Central Africa, became suddenly vivid and near. And even
vivider and nearer that greater danger--the heroic Cousin David!

'How can I live away from Russia at such a moment?' she answered
quietly. 'Who or what needs me in America?'

'But to be massacred!' he cried incoherently.

She smiled radiantly. 'To live and die with my own people.'

The fire in his veins seemed upleaping in a sublime jet; he was like
to crying, 'Thy people shall be my people,' but all he found himself
saying was, 'You must not, you must not; what can a girl like you do?'

A bell rang sharply from the cabin.

'I must go to my mistress. _Gute Nacht, mein Herr!_'

His flame sank to sudden ashes. Only Mrs. Wilha