r the general said:

"We will go to the hotel first. Either Judge Belknap will be there, or
there will be some word for us."

At the hotel they found, not Belknap, but a letter which he had left.
The governor was suffering from a slight indisposition and was confined
to the house. Belknap had made an appointment for him, and he would be
expected. The general crushed the sheet of paper between his fingers
with weary impatience.

"We'll see the governor at once. I'll call a carriage," he said briefly.

Five minutes later, when they had left the hotel, Elizabeth asked:

"What did Judge Belknap say?"

"Nothing, dear, nothing--the matter remains just as it was. The governor
is expecting us."

"What do you think, father? This is our last hope. Oh, do you realize
that?"

She rested her hand on his arm.

"It's going to be all right!" her father assured her.

Then there was silence between them until they drew up before the
governor's house.

Side by side they mounted the steps. The general's ring was answered by
a man-servant, who took their cards after showing them into a small
reception-room. He returned after a moment to say that the governor was
occupied and could not possibly see them until the afternoon. The
general's face was blank. He had never considered it possible that the
governor would refuse to see him at his convenience. Certainly there had
been a time when no politician of his party in the state nor in the
nation would have ventured this; but it was evident the last ten years
had made a difference in his position. Elizabeth gazed up fearfully into
her father's face. What did this mean; was it merely a subterfuge on the
governor's part to avoid a painful interview? Perhaps, after all, it
would have been better had she remained at the hotel. Her father read
her thoughts.

"It's all right--be brave!" he whispered. He turned to the servant.
"Will you kindly learn for me at what hour the governor will be at
liberty?" he said stiffly.

"Oh, he must see us!" cried Elizabeth, the moment they were alone.

"Of course he must, and he will," the general said.

But the governor's refusal to see them at once rankled within him. His
sunburnt cheeks were a brick red and there was an angry light in his
gray eyes. The servant did not return, but in his stead came a dapper
young fellow, the governor's private secretary.

"General Herbert?" he asked inquiringly, as he entered the room.

The general acknowledge