on her dull-gold hair, her voice poured forth
all that was swelling and swelling up in her bruised and stifled
heart:

"God of our fathers! King of Kings!
Lord of the earth and sea!
With hearts repentant and sincere
We turn in need to thee."

She saw neither her children nor her husband nor Ailsa now, where
they gathered silently beside her. And she sang on:

"In the name of God! Amen!
Stand for our Southern rights;
On our side. Southern men,
The God of Battles fights!
Fling the invader far--
Hurl back his work of woe--
His voice is the voice of a brother,
But his hands are the hands of a foe.
By the blood which cries to Heaven.
Crimson upon our sod
Stand, Southrons, fight and conquer
In the Name of the Living God!"

Like receding battle echoes the chords, clashing distantly, died
away.

If she heard her husband turn, enter the hallway, and unbolt the
door, she made no sign. Ailsa, beside her, stooped and passed one
arm around her.

"You--are not crying, are you, Celia, darling?" she whispered.

Her sister-in-law, lashes wet, rose with decision.

"I think that I have made a goose of myse'f to-night. Marye, will
you say to your father that it is after eleven o'clock, and that I
am waiting to be well scolded and sent to bed?"

"Father went out a few moments ago," said Paige in an awed voice.
"I heard him unbolt the front door."

Ailsa turned and walked swiftly out into the hallway; the front
door swung wide; Mr. Craig stood on the steps wearing his hat. He
looked around as she touched his arm.

"Oh, is it you, Ailsa?" There was a moment's indecision. Through
it, once more, far away in the city The Voices became audible
again, distant, vague, incessant.

"I thought--if it is actually an extra--" he began carelessly and
hesitated; and she said:

"Let me go with you. Wait. I'll speak to Celia."

"Say to her that I'll be gone only a moment."

When Ailsa returned she slipped her arm through his and they
descended the steps and walked toward Fulton Avenue. The Voices
were still distant; a few people, passing swiftly through the dusk,
preceded them. Far down the vista of the lighted avenue dark
figures crossed and recrossed the street, silhouetted against the
gas-lights; some were running. A man called out something as they
passed him. Suddenly, right ahead in the darkness, they
encountered people gathered before the boarded fence of a vac