into long vistas, and now he would demand. Phoebe bowed her head on her
hands--suppose he should not demand!

And so in the watches of the night the siege was raised and Phoebe, the
dauntless, brilliant, arrogant Phoebe had capitulated. No love-lorn woman
of the ages ever palpitated more thoroughly at the thought of her lover
than did she as she kept vigil with David across the city.

But there were articles of capitulation yet to be signed and the ceremony
of surrender to come.




CHAPTER XI

ACROSS THE MANY WATERS


And the day of the election arrived next morning and brought cold clouds
shot through with occasional gleams of pale sunshine, only to be followed
by light but threatening flurries of snow.

All through the Sunday night David had sat over in the editorial rooms of
the _Journal_ beside Andrew Sevier, talking, writing and sometimes silent
with unexpressed sympathy, for as the last sheets of his editorial work
slipped through his fingers Andrew grew white and austere. Once for a
half-hour they talked about his business affairs and he turned over a
bundle of papers to David and discussed the investment of the money that
had come from his heavy royalties for the play now running, and the