Then Bannister found his voice for the first time in many minutes. “That’s a lie,” he said. “I’m not a member of the Knights of the Golden Circle. I plot nothing. What I think, I say. What I do, I’m not ashamed of. What you cowards can do to me, I’m not afraid of.” Sarah Jane Stark turned on him savagely. “You shut up!” she commanded. “I’m doing the talking for this delegation.” Then again she addressed the chairman of the meeting. “You ought to know,” she said, “that I’m no copperhead. I detest ’em. You ought to know that with two brothers and a nephew in the Union armies I have some sympathy with the soldiers. And if I ever loved a man in my life I love Abe Lincoln. But there’s nothing I love quite so much as I do fair play. And this isn’t fair play.” [Illustration: “THIS ISN’T FAIR PLAY.”] It was strange how quiet the crowd had become. But then, when Sarah Jane Stark had anything to say, people were always ready to listen. “Now, the best thing for you people to do,” she added, “the decent thing to do, is to loosen this man’s hands, give him his coat and hat, and let him go quietly away to reflect on his monumental foolishness.” She was already untying the handkerchief that bound Bannister’s wrists together as she spoke. “Folly like his,” she went on, “brings its own reward. Maybe the good Lord wants him for a Union soldier and will supervise the draft to that end. So it isn’t for you to fly in the face of Providence and spoil it all before the time is ripe. And you,” giving Bannister a little push as she spoke, “you go home and get down on your knees and pray for common sense.” No one else on earth, save possibly his own cherished wife, could have sealed Rhett Bannister’s lips and started him homeward this day. But he had respect for Sarah Jane Stark. Along with his townsmen, he honored her motives, deferred to her judgment, and obeyed her commands. So, almost unconsciously, before he fairly knew what he was doing, before he had time to think whether he was retreating ignominiously from his enemies, or leaving them in disgust, he found himself alone on the highway walking toward his home. When he reached his house, he found his wife and children all waiting for him on the porch. Much as Bob liked music and crowds and excitement, he had not cared to go up to the village to-day, and had induced Louise to stay at home with him. And as for poor Mrs. Bannister, she shrank with dread from meeting any of her neighbors. The fact that something had happened to him during his two hours’ absence Bannister could not conceal. It was too evident, from his appearance, that he had been roughly treated. But neither of his children dared to ask him questions, and his wife contented herself with smoothing back his hair and rearranging his tie, knowing full well in her fluttering and fearful heart, that vengeance had been meted out to him, and that sooner or later she would know the whole unhappy story.