Thus Reuben’s simple and highly fortuitous conquest of what had been planned to be a mob was accomplished. It is remembered to this day as the best thing any man ever did single-handed in Thessaly, and it is always spoken of as the foundation of his present political eminence. But he himself would say now, upon reflection, that he succeeded because the better sense of his auditors, from the outset, wanted him to succeed, and because he was lucky enough to impress a very decent and bright-witted lot of men with the idea that he wasn’t a humbug. ***** At the moment he was in no mood to analyze his success. His hair was streaming with melted snow, his throat was painfully hoarse and sore, and the fatigue from speaking so loud, and the reaction from his great excitement, combined to make him feel a very weak brother indeed. So utterly wearied was he that when the door of the now lighted hallway opened behind him, and Miss Kate herself, standing in front of the servant on the threshold, said: “We want you to come in, Mr. Tracy,” he turned mechanically and went in, thinking more of a drink of some sort and a chance to sit down beside her, than of all the possible results of his speech to the crowd. The effect of warmth and welcome inside the mansion was grateful to all his senses. He parted with his hat and overcoat, took the glass of claret which was offered him, and allowed himself to be led into the drawing-room and given a seat, all in a happy daze, which was, in truth, so very happy, that he was dimly conscious of the beginnings of tears in his eyes. It seemed now that the strain upon his mind and heart--the anger, and fright, and terrible anxiety--had lasted for whole weary years. Trial by soul-torture was new to him, and this ordeal through which he had passed left him curiously flabby and tremulous. He lay back in the easy-chair in an ecstasy of physical lassitude and mental content, surrendering himself to the delight of watching the beautiful girl before him, and of listening to the music of her voice. The liquid depths of brown eyes into which he looked, and the soft tones which wooed his hearing, produced upon him vaguely the sensation of shining white robes and celestial harps--an indefinitely glorious recompense for the travail that lay behind in the valley of the shadow of death. Nothing was further from him than the temptation to break this bright spell by speech. “We heard almost every word of what you said,” Kate was saying. “When you began we were in this room, crouched there by the window--that is, Ethel and I were, for mamma refused to even pretend to listen--and at first we thought it was one of the mob, and then Ethel recognized your voice. That almost annoyed me, for it seemed as if _I_ should have been---at least, equally quick to know it--that is, I mean, I’ve heard you speak so much more than she has. And then we both hurried up-stairs, and lifted the window--and oh! but we listened!