for no one save Anderson and himself had been
initiated into the secret. Margaret knew, of course, but she could be
trusted. Perhaps after all the man had escaped that night. Perhaps it
was this very person who had created the furore at the meeting. Who was
he? How did he get in? Why were proper steps not taken to safeguard the
room against all possibilities of this nature? Bah! Anderson had bungled
the thing from the start. He was a boy sent on a man's errand.

The regiment was defunct. To speculate further on that subject would be
futile. It never had existed, as far as he could see, except on paper,
and there it remained, a mere potentiality. The single-handed disruption
of it proved how utterly deprived it was of cohesion and organization.
That one man, alone and in disguise, could have acquainted himself
thoroughly with the whole proceeding, could have found his way with no
attempt at interference into the meeting place, and with a few
well-chosen words could have moved an entire audience to espouse the
very contrary of their original purpose, indicated the stability and the
temper of the assembly. To coerce men is a useless endeavor. Even the
Almighty finds it well not to interfere with man's power of choice. They
might be led or enticed or cajoled; but to force them, or intimidate
them, or overwhelm them, is an idle and unavailing adventure.

Anderson had failed miserably and his conspiracy had perished with him.
Not a prominent Catholic had been reached in the first place; not a
member of the poorest class would now leave the city. The affair with
its awful disclosures only added strength to their position, for
whatever aspersions might have been cast upon their loyalty in the event
of the successful deportation of the company, were now turned like a
boomerang against the very ones who had engineered the scheme. The
community would respect the Catholics more for the future. They were to
profit by his undoing. They would be valued for the test that their
patriotism had stood.

There was another consideration, however, which wore a graver complexion
and tormented him beyond endurance. This was the solicitude for his own
safety. The people had hated him for years and had proceeded to invent
stories about him which might justify its anger. It had been a
satisfaction for him to reflect that, for the most part, these stories
had not been the causes, but rather the effects of public indignation.
But what answer coul