"3 P.M. "The fire at this hour is very heavy. Nineteen batteries are bombarding Sumter. The fort replies briskly. The excitement in Charleston is intense." "LATER. "Heavy rain storm. Firing resumed this evening. The mortar batteries throw a shell into the fort every twenty minutes. The fort replies at intervals." "LATEST. "The fort is still replying. Major Anderson has signalled the fleet outside." All this she read aloud, one hand resting on Craig's shoulder as he held her aloft above the throng. Men crowding around and striving to see, paused, with up-turned faces, listening to the emotionless young voice. There was no shouting, no sound save the trample and shuffle of feet; scarcely a voice raised, scarcely an exclamation. As Craig lowered her to the pavement, a man making his way out said to them: "Well, I guess that ends it." Somebody replied quietly: "I guess that _begins_ it." Farther down the avenue toward the City Hall where the new marble court house was being built, a red glare quivered incessantly against the darkness; distant hoarse rumours penetrated the night air, accented every moment by the sharper clamour of voices calling the _Herald's_ extras. "Curt?" "Yes, dear." "If he surrenders----" "It makes no difference what he does now, child." "I know it. . . . They've dishonoured the flag. This is war, isn't it?" "Yes." "Will it be a long war?" "I think not." "Who will go?" "I don't know. . . . Soldiers." "I didn't suppose we had enough. Where are we going to get more?" "The people--" he said absently--"everybody, I suppose. How do I know, child?" "Just ordinary people?" "Just ordinary people," he responded quietly. A few minutes later as they entered their own street he said: "I suppose I had better tell my wife about this to-night. I don't know--it will be in the morning papers; but I think I had better break it to her to-night." "She will have to know--sometime--of course----" Halting at the foot of the stoop he turned and peered through his glasses at his sister-in-law. "I don't want Stephen to start any nonsense about going." "Going where?" she asked innocently. He hesitated: "I don't want to hear any talk from him about enlisting. That is what I mean. Your influence counts with him more deeply than you know. Remember that." "Steve--_enlist_!" she repeated blankly. She could not yet comprehend what all this had to do with people she personally knew--with her own kin. "He must not enlist, of course," she said curtly. "There are plenty of soldiers--there will be plenty, of course. I----" Something silenced her, something within her sealed her lips. She stood in silence while Craig fitted his night-key, then entered the house with him. Gas burned low in the hall globes; when he turned it off a fainter light from above guided them. "Celia, is that you?" she called gently,