The Fall of a Nation. Thomas Dixon

revoir – tomorrow night,” he said in low tones.

      Virginia watched him go with a mingled feeling of triumph and fear. There was something about the man that puzzled and annoyed her – something unconvincing in his apparent frankness. And yet the truth about his big life purpose never for a moment entered her imagination.

      CHAPTER III

      WHEN Meyer reached the quarter of the East Side where eager crowds surge through a little crooked thoroughfare leading from the old Armory on Essex Street he encountered unexpected difficulties.

      He ran into a section of John Vassar’s congressional district saturated with the young leader’s ideals of a new Americanism. He was coldly received.

      Benda, the Italian fruit-dealer on the corner, Meyer had marked finally as his opening wedge in the little clannish community. The Italian was the most popular man on the street, his store the meeting-place of the wives and children for three blocks.

      Meyer entered the store and to his surprise found it deserted. The sounds of laughter in the little suite of living-room and kitchen behind the store told of festivities in progress. He waited impatiently for the proprietor to return.

      Benda was presiding at a function too important to be interrupted by thoughts of trade. With Angela, his wife, and the neighbors, he was celebrating the fifth birthday of their only boy, Tommaso, Jr. The kids from far and near were bringing their little presents and Pasquale, his best friend, who was returning to Italy by the next steamer, had generously given his monkey and hand-organ. Benda himself had escorted Pasquale into the room and had just sprung the big surprise on the assembled party.

      Pasquale was putting the monkey through his tricks amid screams of laughter when Meyer’s dark face clouded the door leading from the store.

      He beckoned angrily to Benda.

      “May I see you a minute?”

      Benda sprang to meet the unexpected apparition in his doorway while Angela led Pasquale and the children into the street for a grand concert. Meyer’s tense face had not passed without her swift glance.

      She left the children dancing and entered the store from the front. Meyer had just offered Benda good wages for his services in the cause and the Italian was tempted and puzzled.

      Angela suddenly confronted Meyer. His suave explanation that the alliance which he had invited Benda to join was a benevolent order for self-protection was not convincing.

      The wife swung her husband suddenly aside and stepped between the two. She fairly threw her words into Meyer’s face.

      “You go now! My man stick to his beesness. He mak good mon. We got our little home.”

      Meyer attempted to argue. Benda tried to edge in a word. It was useless. Angela’s shrill voice rose in an endless chorus of protest.

      Benda threw up his hands in surrender and re-entered the store. Meyer angrily turned on his heel and crossed the street to see Schultz, the delicatessen man on the opposite corner.

      Schultz proved impossible from the first. His jovial face was wreathed in smiles but his voice was firm in its deep mumbling undertone.

      “No – mein frient – no more drill for me – I fight no more except for the flag dot give me mein freedom and mein home!”

      The two men held each other’s gaze in a moment of dramatic tension. The menace in Meyer’s voice was unmistakable as he answered:

      “I’ll see you again!”

      CHAPTER IV

      JOHN VASSAR’S triumphant return to his home on Stuyvesant Square, after the introduction of his sensational bill in Congress, was beset with domestic complications. Congratulations from his father, nieces, and Wanda had scarcely been received before the trouble began.

      “But you must hear Miss Holland!” Zonia pleaded.

      John Vassar shook his head.

      “Not tonight, dear – ”

      “I’d set my heart on introducing you. Ah, Uncy dear – please! She’s the most eloquent orator in America – ”

      “That’s why I hate her and all her tribe – ”

      A rosy cheek pressed close to his.

      “Not all her tribe – ”

      “My Zonia – no – but I could wring her neck for leading a chick of your years into her fool movement – ”

      “But she didn’t lead me, Uncy dear, I just saw it all in a flash while she was speaking – my duty to my sex and the world – ”

      “Duty to your sex! What do you know about duty to your sex? – you infant barely out of short dresses! Your hair ought to be still in braids. And it was all my fault. I let you out of the nursery too soon – ”

      He paused and looked at her wistfully.

      “And I promised your father’s spirit the day you came to us here that I’d guard you as my own – you and little Marya. I haven’t done my duty. I’ve been too busy with big things to realize that I was neglecting the biggest thing in the world. You’ve slipped away from me, dear – and I’m heartsick over it. Maybe I’ll be in time for Marya – you’re lost at eighteen – ”

      “Marya’s joined our Club too – ”

      “A babe of twelve?”

      “She’s going to be Miss Holland’s page in the suffrage Pageant – ”

      John Vassar groaned, laid both hands on the girl’s shoulders and rose abruptly.

      “Now, Zonia, it’s got to stop here and now. I’m not going to allow this brazen Amazon – ”

      His niece broke into a fit of laughter.

      “Brazen Amazon?”

      “That’s what I said. This brazen Amazon is my enemy – ”

      The girl lifted her finger laughingly.

      “But you’re not afraid of her? John Vassar, a descendant of old Yan Vasa in whose veins ran the royal blood of Poland – ten years in Congress from this big East Side district – the idol of the people – chairman of the National House Committee on Military Affairs” – she paused and her voice dropped to the tensest pride – “my candidate for governor of New York – you positively won’t go to the meeting in Union Square tonight?” she added quietly.

      “Positively – ”

      “Then, Uncy dear, I’ll have to deliver the message – ”

      She drew a crumpled note from her bosom and handed it to him without a word.

      He broke the seal and read with set lips:

      Hon. John Vassar, M. C.,

      16 Stuyvesant Square,

      New York.

      Dear Sir: Our committee in charge of the canvass of your congressional district in the campaign for woman’s suffrage have tried in vain to obtain an expression of your views. We are making a house to house canvass of every voter in New York. You have thus far side-stepped us.

      You are a man of too much power in the State and nation to overlook in such a fight. The Congressional Directory informs us that you are barely thirty-six years old. You have already served ten years in Washington with distinction and have won your spurs as a national leader. A great future awaits you unless you incur the united opposition of the coming woman voter.

      I warn you that we are going to sweep the Empire State. Your majority is large and has increased at each election. It is not large enough if we mark you for defeat. I have sincerely hoped that we might win you for our cause.

      I ask for a declaration of your position. You must be for us or against us. There can be no longer a middle course.

      I should deeply regret the necessity of your defeat if you force the issue. Your niece has quite