A great fear awed her into silence. For the first time in all her struggle with her father the sense suddenly came into her heart of her dependence on Gaston’s love for the very desire to live, and for the first time she realised the possibility of losing him. What if he should press his great ambitions to successful issue while she stood irresolute and tortured him with her indecision? If he could win the world’s applause without her, might he not, when successful, cease to need her? Her breast heaved with the tumult of uncertainty. What if another woman saw and loved him, and drew near to him in his hours of soul loneliness and struggle, and he had learned to see her face with joy! The conviction came crushing upon her that she had not responded bravely to this powerful man’s singular devotion into which he had poured without reserve his deepest passion. Had he weighed her and found her wanting in some dark hour in her absence? Her heart was in her throat at the thought! The General watched her keenly for several moments, and thought at last he had broken the spell. He believed he could now tell her of the cloud that hung over Gaston. “I said, Sallie, that I believed Gaston a dangerous man. I did not speak lightly. We have had terrible riots in Independence while you were absent in which Gaston was the leader of an armed revolution which overturned the city and county government. Two thousand men were under arms for a week and several were killed and wounded on both sides. The results were good as a whole, I confess. We have a decent government and we have security of property and life, but such methods will lead to civil war.” Her face grew tense, and she looked at her father with breathless interest during this recital. “Was he in danger in those riots?” she slowly asked. “Yes, and I expect him to be killed at an early day if he continues his present methods. A mob of five hundred negroes attempted to kill him. This was one of the causes that led to the Revolution.” She was on her feet now pale and trembling with excitement. “Where is he?” she gasped. “Now, my dear, it’s useless to get excited. The trouble is all over and a new Mayor and police force are in charge of the city. But he is resting under a serious cloud at present. He is held in jail at Asheville on a charge of felony, and a charge of murder is being pressed.” “In jail! in jail!” she cried incredulously while her eyes filled with tears. “Yes, and Allan believes these ugly charges will be proved in the United States court, and he will be convicted.” She did not seem to hear the last sentence. “In jail!” she repeated, “my lover, to whom I have given my life, and you, my father, while I was three thousand miles away stood by and did not lift a hand to help him?” “Has he not been my bitterest enemy, seeking to insult me!” thundered the General.