le to endure the
heart-breaking suspense of waiting outside, had gathered up all her
courage and had come into the room. Trembling, she clung to Magnus's
arm, her pretty light-brown hair in disarray, her large young girl's
eyes wide with terror and distrust. What was about to happen she did not
understand, but these men were clamouring for Magnus to pledge himself
to something, to some terrible course of action, some ruthless,
unscrupulous battle to the death with the iron-hearted monster of
steel and steam. Nerved with a coward's intrepidity, she, who so easily
obliterated herself, had found her way into the midst of this frantic
crowd, into this hot, close room, reeking of alcohol and tobacco smoke,
into this atmosphere surcharged with hatred and curses. She seized her
husband's arm imploring, distraught with terror.

"No, no," she murmured; "no, don't sign."

She was the feather caught in the whirlwind. En masse, the crowd surged
toward the erect figure of the Governor, the pen in one hand, his wife's
fingers in the other, the roll of signatures before him. The clamour
was deafening; the excitement culminated brusquely. Half a hundred
hands stretched toward him; thirty voices, at top pitch, implored,
expostulated, urged, almost commanded. The reverberation of the shouting
was as the plunge of a cataract.

It was the uprising of The People; the thunder of the outbreak of
revolt; the mob demanding to be led, aroused at last, imperious,
resistless, overwhelming. It was the blind fury of insurrection, the
brute, many-tongued, red-eyed, bellowing for guidance, baring its teeth,
unsheathing its claws, imposing its will with the abrupt, resistless
pressure of the relaxed piston, inexorable, knowing no pity.

"No, no," implored Annie Derrick. "No, Magnus, don't sign."

"He must," declared Harran, shouting in her ear to make himself heard,
"he must. Don't you understand?"

Again the crowd surged forward, roaring. Mrs. Derrick was swept back,
pushed to one side. Her husband no longer belonged to her. She paid the
penalty for being the wife of a great man. The world, like a colossal
iron wedge, crushed itself between. She was thrust to the wall. The
throng of men, stamping, surrounded Magnus; she could no longer see him,
but, terror-struck, she listened. There was a moment's lull, then a vast
thunder of savage jubilation. Magnus had signed.

Harran found his mother leaning against the wall, her hands shut over
her ears;