gement are the part of its leaders
for months, possibly years, to come. All revolutions are dependent for
ultimate success upon one preeminent figure.

Franz stirred under the unconscious fixity of her gaze and changed his
position, lying on his back. She hastily averted her eyes. Her hands
clenched and spread. Even to-morrow if this man found her ... one soft
moment ... when she needed all her energy, her fire, her powers of
concentration, of depersonalization, for the millions of tortured women
who would follow her straight out to meet any division the Emperor might
detach in the vain hope of subduing an army far outnumbering all that he
had left of men.

Nothing but a miracle could halt the initial stage of the revolution;
the wireless plants were all operated by women in her service, and no
telephone message had advised her of danger. No matter what her
defection at this moment the revolution would begin at dawn; but
although Germany happily lacked the disintegrating forces of Russia,
comfortable as she had been for two generations, and proud in her
discipline, that very discipline would dissolve its new backbone without
the stimulating force of her own inexorable will. And if she deserted
them!...

It was a woman's revolution. A necessary number of men Socialists had
been admitted to the secret and were to strike the second blow. But the
women must strike the first, and according to program. Not only were the
men under surveillance, but where women would be pardoned in case of a
failure, they would be shot. And most of them had more brain than brawn,
were past the fighting age; the girls, and women of middle years, were a
magnificent army which would make the graybeards appear absurd in the
open.

These women worshiped her, believed her to be a super-being created to
save them and their children; but if she betrayed them, proved herself
the merest woman of them all--a childless woman at that--the very bones
would melt out of them, they would prostrate themselves in the ashes of
their final despair.

Spain! Franz! For a moment her imagination rioted.

She smiled ironically. Happiness? Four-walled happiness? Hardly for her,
even without the blood of murdered thousands soaking her doorstep. Love,
for women like her ... even eternal love ... must be episodical. Life
forces the duties of leadership on such women whether they resent them
or not. They must take their love where they find it as great men do,
subord