e three women were at
the windows wide awake--it was not a night when one could sleep. The
same awe was on their faces as they gazed at the burning buildings, the
towers of fire twisted and coiled by the wind. Overhead was a sullen
sky, a roof of smoke shutting out the stars, and clouds of fine ashes
shifting with the wind.

"Will all the city burn, Robert?" asked his mother far toward morning.

"I do not know, mother," he replied, "but there is danger of it. I am a
loyal Southerner, but I pray that the Yankees will come quickly. It
seems a singular thing to say, but Richmond now needs their aid."

Lucia said little. Once, as Prescott stood outside, he saw her face
framed in the window like a face in a picture, a face as pure and as
earnest as that of Ruth amid the corn. He wondered why he had ever
thought it possible that she could love or marry James Sefton. Alike in
will and strength of mind, they were so unlike in everything else. He
came nearer. The other two were at another window, intent on the fire.

"Lucia," he whispered, "if I stay here it is partly for love of you.
Tell me, if you still hold anything against me, that you forgive me. I
have been weak and foolish, but if so it was because I had lost
something that I valued most in all the world. Again I say I was weak
and foolish, but that was all; I have done nothing wrong. Oh, I was mad,
but it was a momentary madness, and I love you and you alone."

She put down her hand from the window and shyly touched his hair. He
seized the hand and kissed it. She hastily withdrew it, and the red
arose in her cheeks, but her eyes were not unkind.

His world, the world of the old South, was still falling about him.
Piece by piece it fell. The hour was far toward morning. The rumble of
wagons in the streets died. All the refugees who could go were gone, but
the thieves and the drunkards were still abroad. In some places men had
begun to make efforts to check the fire and to save the city from total
ruin, and Prescott helped them, working amid the smoke and the ashes.

The long night of terror come to an end and the broad sun flushed the
heavens. Then rose again the cry: "The Yankees!" and now report and
rumour were true. Northern troops were approaching, gazing curiously at
this burning city which for four years had defied efforts, costing
nearly a million lives, and the Mayor went forth ready to receive them
and make the surrender.

Prescott and the three women fo