But
they were silent and presently she went on again. "You know, boys, it's
like being in a book or a play, isn't it? We're--_characters_--now, not
just plain people! I suppose I'm the leading lady (though Mrs. King's
the real _heroine_) and we've got two heroes and no villain. The
_insurrectos_ are the villain--the villain in bunches." Suddenly she sat
forward in her chair, her eyes brightening and a little color flooding
her face. "Boys, it's our song come true! Now I know why I always got so
thrilled over that second verse,--even the first time Stepper read it to
us,--remember how it just bowled me over? And it seemed so remote from
anything that could touch our lives,--yet here we are, in just such a
tight place." They were listening now. "There isn't any desert or
regiment or gatling, and Mr. King isn't dead, only dreadfully hurt, but
it fits, just the same! We've got this thirst to stand ... and it's a
good deal, isn't it? Those _insurrectos_ down there,--planning we don't
know what, perhaps to rush the house any moment--

The River of Death has brimmed his banks;
And England's far, and Honor's a name--

That means to us that L. A. is far, and South Figueroa Street ... all
the safe happy things that didn't seem wonderful then...."

"'_Honor's a name_,'" said Jimsy under his breath.

"Oh," said the girl, "I never noticed that before! Isn't that funny?
Well--

The voice of a school boy rallies the ranks!

That fits! And won't we be thankful all our lives--all our snug, safe,
prosy lives--that we were sporting now?-- That we all played the
game?" Her eyes were on Jimsy, reassuring him, staying him. "When this
is all over----"

He cut roughly into her sentence. "Oh, for God's sake, Skipper, let's
not talk!"

Again he had to bear the mothering of her understanding eyes. "All
right, Jimsy. We won't talk, then. We'll sit here together"--she changed
to the chair nearest his and put her hand on his arm--"and wait for Juan
and----"

He sprang to his feet. "I wish you'd leave me alone!" he said. "I wish
you'd go upstairs and stay with Aunt Maddy and Uncle Rich'. I want to be
by myself."

She did not stir. "I think I'll stay with you, Jimsy."

His voice was ugly now. "When I don't want you? When I tell you I'd
rather be alone?"

Honor was still for a long moment. She rose and went to the door but
she turned to look at him, a steady, intent scrutiny. "All right, Jimsy.
I'll go. I'll lea