“No, my dear. I shouldn’t have let you come all this distance merely to hear what we both knew this morning. Run along home, like a good little girl, and don’t sit up for me to-night. I’ll be late. Of course, in spite of my scolding, I’ll stay till the last dog’s hung. I’ll see the thing through, and wave the white flag myself. It wouldn’t be quite the thing, you know, to have all the fun of the fight and then funk the submission. I merely came into this room because you were due at six, and to rest my nerves a bit. I’m going back to the directors, and will write the letter of surrender myself; for they will never summon up courage enough to do even that if I am not at their elbows. I’m going down with the ship, my girl, pretending I like it; so off you go, Edna, and we’ll feel all right about it next week----perhaps.” Haggard as he looked the night before, Edna now noticed, with a thrill of fear, that for the first time he seemed an old man. His usually well-set shoulders were bent, and even his neatly-fitting clothes hung loosely about him. The hesitation and the tone in which he said the last word, “perhaps,” showed her like an electric flash what was in his own mind, and what had never occurred to her before,--that when he was suddenly wrenched away from the task that had been his life’s work, he would break up in idleness like a useless hulk on the rocks. “Father,” she cried, “don’t let them send that letter till to-morrow. A day more or less makes no difference, and they will keep it back if you ask them to.” Sartwell shook his head. “There is no use in delay,” he said. “It has always been my habit to do quickly what had to be done, and I am getting too old to change my habits. If you must walk the plank, walk it, and get it over.” The girl did not urge him further, but kissed him and said, “Good-night.” He saw her into the hansom, and told the cabman to drive to Waterloo. At the first turning Edna pushed up the little trap-door in the roof of the cab. “Do you know where the headquarters of the strikers are?” she asked. “Yes, miss. At the Salvation Hall, miss.” “Well, drive me there as quickly as you can.” The cabby turned his horse and in a short time was making his way through the crowd of men who were gathering from all quarters to the meeting. He drew up at the kerb in front of the hall. Edna stepped out, flushing as she saw the men looking curiously at her. She said to one: “Where can I find Mr. Marsten?” “He’s in his room at the back of the ’all, ma’am. This wye, ma’am. I’ll show you the door.” Edna followed the man down the long, narrow passage at the side of the hall. “For God’s sake, mates, what’s the meaning of this?” cried Gibbons, in amazement, taking his pipe out of his mouth. Some of the men laughed, but Gibbons looked serious, and they saw that there was more in the incident than appeared on the surface. “Who is it she wants to see?” cried Gibbons, as the man appeared who had led the girl down the passage.