ephone
lines were busy that day. It was a relief to all of them to know that
Pen was living and being cared for; it was a source of apprehension
and grief to them that his condition, as intimated in the telegram,
was still so critical.

As for Colonel Butler he was in a fever of excitement and distress.
Late in the afternoon he went to his room and, with his one hand,
began, hastily and confusedly, to pack a small steamer trunk. His
daughter found him so occupied.

"What in the world are you doing?" she asked him.

"I am preparing to go to Rouen," he replied, "to see that my grandson
is cared for in his illness in a manner due to one who has placed his
life in jeopardy for France."

"Father, stand up! Look at me! Listen to me!" The very essence of
determination was in her voice and manner, and he obeyed her. "You are
not to stir one step from this town. Sarah Butler and I are going to
France to be with Pen; we have talked it over and decided on it; and
you are going to stay right here at Bannerhall, where you can be of
supreme service to us, instead of burdening us with your company."

He looked at her steadily for a moment, but he saw only rigid
resolution and determination in her eyes; he was too unstrung and
broken to protest, or to insist on his right as head of the house, and
so--he yielded. Later in the day, however, a compromise was effected.
It was agreed that he should accompany his daughter and his
daughter-in-law to New York, aid them in securing passage, passports
and credentials, and see them safely aboard ship for their perilous
journey, after which he was to return home and spend the time quietly
with his niece Eleanor, and make necessary preparations for the
return of the invalid, later on, to Bannerhall.

He carried out his part of the New York program in good faith, and had
the satisfaction, three days later, of bidding the two women good-by
on the deck of a French liner bound for Havre. He had no apprehension
concerning the fitness of his daughter to go abroad unaccompanied save
by her sister-in-law. She had been with him on three separate trips to
the continent, and, in his judgment, for a woman, she had displayed
marked traveling ability. His only fear was of German submarines.

"A most cowardly, dastardly, uncivilized way," he declared, "of waging
war upon an enemy's women and children."

He was in good spirits as the vessel sailed. His parting words to his
daughter were:

"If you shoul