CHAPTER XLIII Before eleven o’clock the Daughters of Jael, accorded the place of honor at every banquet hall, had succeeded in slipping from drunken soldiers and sailors thousands of arms. Swift automobiles, commandeered by their persuasive voices, or taken by direct attack from maudlin chauffeurs, were speeding with these guns to the appointed places. More than two hundred thousand soldiers of the Imperial Army have deserted to our colors. Ten thousand rough riders from the Western plains had been smuggled into the suburban districts of New York since the embargo on horses had been lifted. They were armed with lances and only awaited the advent of revolvers to lead the attack. Each soldier from the Far West had reached the Eastern seaboard as an individual and reported secretly to his commander. They were in their brown kahki suits tonight stripped for action, awaiting the signal to strike. Billy Holland, a captain of infantry, had been chosen by Vassar to lead the assault on Waldron’s place. His sweetheart and sister were behind the walls of the Governor-General’s magnificent house and the division leader knew the boy’s mettle. That he would give a good account of himself Vassar was absolutely sure. As Waldron entered the grand ballroom, accompanied by Virginia, Marya, Zonia and a group of young admiring officers, Billy led his men cautiously through the underbrush toward the house. On the signal of the toast to the Emperor, the Daughters of Jael had agreed to join their lovers, extinguish the lights, strike down the sentinels and the rest would be easy. The men in the palace were joyously drunk before eleven. Only a few officers survived the siren call of the cup urged by the charming girls in their white and gold uniforms. Waldron led the dancing with Virginia Holland. He moved with the easy grace of a master, never missing for an instant the perfect rhythm of her lithe, graceful body. The surprise of the evening for the Governor-General had been the appearance of every American woman wearing the shining helmet of the soldier of the ranks in token of their full surrender to Imperial authority. “A beautiful idea--those helmets!” he whispered as they swept through the throng. “You are pleased?” “I am more than pleased, I am happy tonight. I know that only your brilliant imagination could have conceived so graceful a tribute to my Imperial Master--” He paused. “You are closer to me tonight than ever before,” he said softly. “I feel it, I know it.” She turned her head and breathed her answer: “Yes--” The dancing ended at eleven-thirty. Waldron gave his arm to Virginia and led the way to the banquet tables. A band of stringed instruments, concealed in bowers of roses, filled the room with exquisite music. The waiters moved with swift, noiseless tread. The revelry steadily grew faster, the drinking deeper, the dancing more exciting.