The old man had seen many a fierce fight, he had a scar that he had received at the Battle of the Wilderness, he had a gunshot wound at Gettysburg, but he felt that here was the grimmest of all revelations, the slipping of the leash, the wild thing escaping from its cage, the mob! The low fierce hum of anger came up and filled their ears, he heard the voices behind him, the rushing feet of incoming messengers, the news of the lieutenant-governor’s call for the militia. Then he suddenly remembered Diana, and plunged abruptly down-stairs. She had been waiting all this while alone in the lower room, yet, before the colonel got there, Caleb Trench came back. He had just told her what had happened when her father appeared. “My dear child,” said the colonel, “I clean forgot you!” Diana was very pale, but she smiled. “I know it,” she said, glancing at Caleb. “Once father got excited at the races at Lexington and when some one asked him his name, he couldn’t remember it. He paid a darkey a quarter to go and ask Judge Hollis who he was! Colonel Royall, I must go home.” “So you must,” agreed the colonel, “but, my dear, the crowd is--er--is rather noisy.” “It’s a riot, isn’t it?” asked Diana, listening. They heard, even then, the voice of it shake the still hot air. Then, quite suddenly, a bugle sounded sweetly, clearly. “The militia,” said the colonel, in a tone of relief. “I reckon we can go home now.” “You can go by the back way,” said Caleb quietly; “stay here a moment and I’ll see that some one gets your carriage through the inner gate. The troops will drive the mob out of the square.” He had started to leave the room when Colonel Royall spoke. “Is--is Yarnall really quite dead?” “Killed instantly,” said Caleb, and went out. Diana covered her face with her hands; she had been braving it out before him. “Oh, pa!” she cried, “how dreadful! I was almost frightened to death and--and I always thought I was brave.” “You are,” said the colonel fondly; “I was a brute to forget you--but--well, Diana, it was tremendously shocking.” Diana’s face grew whiter. “Pa,” she said suddenly, “where--where is Jacob?” The colonel understood. “God knows!” he said, “but, Diana, he wasn’t in the court-room!” “Oh, thank God!” she said. It was then that Caleb came back, and she noticed how pale he looked and how worn, for the long weeks of preparation for the trial and the final ordeal had worn him to the bone. “The carriage is waiting,” he said simply, and made a movement, slight but definite, toward Diana. But she had taken her father’s arm. The colonel thanked the younger man heartily, yet his manner did not exactly convey an invitation. Caleb stood aside, therefore, to let them pass. At the door, Diana stopped her father with a slight pressure on his arm, and held out her hand. “Good-bye,” she said quietly, “and thank you.”