ompanion-in-arms, his daughter, even after long years of constant
brooding upon this subject, dares not decide. If she could she
might be happier.

"The general was a kindly man, sharp of face and of a tall thin
figure, but with an eye to draw children and make them happy with
a look. But his effect on the father was different. From the
moment the two met in the great hall below, the temper of the host
betrayed how little he welcomed this guest. He did not fail in
courtesy--the Moores are always gentlemen--but it was a hard
courtesy, which cut while it flattered. The two children, shrinking
from its edge without knowing what it was that hurt them, slunk to
covert, and from behind the two pillars which mark the entrance to
the library, watched the two men as they walked up and down the
halls discussing the merits of this and that detail of the freshly
furnished mansion. These two innocent, but eager spies, whom fear
rather than curiosity held in hiding, even caught some of the
sentences which passed between tire so-called friends; and though
these necessarily conveyed but little meaning to their childish
minds, the words forming them were never forgotten, as witness
these phrases confided to me by Mistress Callista twenty-five years
afterward.

"'You have much that most men lack,' remarked the general, as they
paused to admire some little specimen of Italian art which had been
lately received from Genoa. 'You have money--too much money, Moore,
by an amount I might easily name--a home which some might call
palatial, a lovely, if not altogether healthy wife, two fine
children, and all the honor which a man in a commonwealth like this
should ask for. Drop politics.'

"'Politics are my life,' was the cold response. 'To bid me drop
them is to bid me commit suicide.' Then, as an afterthought to
which a moment of intervening silence added emphasis, 'And for you
to drive me from them would be an act little short of murder.'

"'Justice dealt upon a traitor is not murder,' was the stern and
unyielding reply. 'By one black deed of treacherous barter and sale,
of which none of your countrymen is cognizant but myself, you have
forfeited the confidence of this government. Were I, who so
unhappily surprised your secret, to allow you to continue in your
present place of trust, I myself would be a traitor to the republic
for which I have fought and for which I am ready to die. That is
why I ask you to resign before--'