THE FAIR PRIZE WON.
“Hail, lady!” Wylie rode up to Danaë and saluted, as she sat on her
horse, the picture of hopeless bewilderment, in the midst of a
clamorous crowd.
“Oh, how glad I am that you have come, lord!” she cried. “These people
say that certain Roumis dwelling among them are responsible for all
yesterday’s rioting, and they have broken into their houses and
dragged them out. The police have no evidence against them, but I am
afraid to send them home lest they should be killed.”
“Case of police protection, evidently,” said Wylie. “You want me to
settle it?” Receiving an eager affirmative, he spoke in Roumi to the
unfortunate Moslems, who were held by many hands, then scolded their
assailants roundly, and remarked that it would be well for everything
stolen from the looted houses to be back in its place when he arrived
there in a few minutes to settle the lawful owners in their homes
again under a police guard to protect them. Meeting Danaë’s grateful
eyes, he laughed.
“I didn’t intend to take your work out of your hands in this way,” he
said; “but Panagiotis seemed to think you would be glad to be relieved
at once. I have not seen your brother, but he sent polite messages,
and an order putting me in charge of the city and the troops.”
“Oh yes!” with infinite relief. “I can leave it all with you, and go
back to my husband. But how is the Lady Zoe?”
“Very well, thank you, but she is not so very far off, you know. You
will find her at the Palace. She refused to let me leave her behind.”
“Oh, I must go to her!” cried Danaë. “You won’t mind if I leave you?
This gentleman, my aide-de-camp, will explain everything, and you will
know what to do far better than I do.”
Hardly waiting for his answer, she rode away, and on arriving at the
Palace demanded eagerly where the Princess Zoe was, and ran upstairs
to find her. Zoe, instructing the rough Emathian handmaid who had
accompanied her in Linton’s place in the art of unpacking, found her
door suddenly burst open to admit a human whirlwind with flying plaits
and draperies, which dropped at her feet.
“Oh, lady, lady mine!”
“Kalliopé, my dear child! Come, let me look at you. Why, you are
taller than ever--and so much improved!”
“Really, lady? Not a savage any more?”
“I never called you a savage, I am sure.”
“Artemisia did, and Princess Theophanis, and all of them. Tell me
quickly, lady--am I different?”
Zoe turned her face to the light, and looked at her searchingly, while
the girl knelt blushing and trembling. “Very different. You have found
your soul, my little mermaid.”
“A water-nymph, a Nereid--do you indeed call me that, lady?” To
Danaë’s ears this was the highest compliment that could be offered
her. “But--” she hid her face in Zoe’s gown--“you know how it is that
a water-nymph obtains a soul?”
“I do, and it has come true in your case, hasn’t it? He shares his
soul with you, and you accept the gift.”
“Even so, my lady, but if you only knew--! I was so wicked, so
ungrateful--he ought to have taken it back.”
“He won’t do that, I am sure. He met us at the door when we arrived,
and I could see that he did not repent. You had a very narrow escape
of losing him, Kalliopé.”
Danaë hung her head. “Yes, lady,” very faintly.
“But, my dear child, it was not your fault!”
“But I had to leave him, my lady. I wanted to stay at his side, and he
bade me go. I durst not even let myself think how nearly I had lost
him, or I must have returned to the Palace at once. And it was only
the night before that I found out how much---- Oh, lady, I think that
my European clothes, and all the feasts and sights, and the kindness
of the European ladies, made me mad at first. I forgot who I was, and
that Milordo in his goodness had made me his wife; I even thought him
unkind. But it came to me in the night that all these things were
nothing to me if his face was turned away, and in the morning I
humbled myself and set his foot on my head, and he forgave me, and I
was content.”
“My dear child!” said Zoe involuntarily, realising the acute
discomfort this reconciliation must have caused to Armitage. Danaë
misunderstood her.
“Not content with myself, lady mine--I don’t mean that. You will teach
me what I ought to be, and I will give myself up to learn from you.
But you do think that he is willing I should be his wife?”
“More than willing, I should say.”
“And--lady, tell me truly--you don’t think my being his wife will do
him any harm--that I shall disgrace him?”
“Not while you feel as you do now.”
“And that will be always. It is well, then. Now I shall fight for my
life. Otherwise I would have let my brother do his will.”
“But what has your brother to do with it?”
“He has condemned me secretly to death, my lady, like all those who
were concerned in the death of his wife. They are all dead but me
now--Petros was the last.”
She spoke with such evident sincerity that Zoe was impressed, though
she would not show it. “My dear child, you must be dreaming. Your own
brother! You mustn’t let yourself get morbid. Let us go downstairs
now. I see my husband coming back.”
They went down to find Armitage, and presently Wylie joined them, with
a somewhat perturbed face.
“When did you see your brother last, lady?” he asked of Danaë.
“When he was carried wounded from the parade-ground,” she replied.
“None of us have seen him since. He asked for Janni at first, but the
poor little one was frightened and cried, and the doctors said he must
not come in again.”
“Haven’t you seen the Prince, Graham?” asked Zoe.
“No, I was to have seen him now if he was well enough, but the doctors
think it wiser not. He is to keep his strength in reserve ready for
seeing Maurice.”
“Maurice!” cried Zoe and Armitage together.
“Yes, Panagiotis has sent for him. He has some deep-laid plot on hand,
but I don’t see it at present.”
“But what is the idea?”
“So far as I can see, it is to magnify the Prince’s illness
sufficiently to make it natural for him to appoint Maurice regent.
That would be an important step gained in uniting our rival interests
against the Powers, but I don’t see that it justifies deception.”
“But you can’t be certain that there is deception,” said Armitage.
“Not certain, but why should the Prince not see me for a minute, if he
is well enough to send messages and sign documents? I should not
disturb him, and it would be much more satisfactory. But one can’t
force one’s way into a sick man’s room against the will of his
doctors.”
“Who is his doctor?” asked Zoe.
“Terminoff, who was with us in Hagiamavra. That’s one thing that makes
me think there is something up. Anyhow Panagiotis intends to see
Maurice established as regent as soon as he arrives, and apparently
attaches immense importance to his arriving as soon as possible.”
“Then he should have written to Eirene instead of Maurice, or at any
rate to both of them,” said Zoe.
“Since he knows the Princess by this time about as well as we do, I
should think it is highly probable that he has,” said Wylie, in his
driest tone.
“Then we may expect them here to-morrow--he is sure to have wired--if
Eirene is able to travel. She will send Maurice if she cannot come
herself, but perhaps this will be just what the doctor said she needed
to rouse her.”
“I hope the Princess is better?” said Armitage.
“Oh, poor thing!” said Zoe. “It is her mind that is suffering more
than her body. You remember how delighted she was when you gave her
back the Girdle of Isidora, Kalliopé?--Danaë, I mean--and how she
seemed quite different? Well, I think she must have felt, somehow,
that this baby was sure to be a boy. When she found it was a girl, it
seemed to take from her all desire to live. She just said, ‘Call it
Isidora,’ and turned her face to the wall.”
“But she is not dead?” asked Danaë, awestruck.
“No, poor Eirene can’t even die dramatically. Her schemes never come
off,” said Zoe, with a touch of her old flippancy. “Don’t look at me
so reproachfully, Graham. You know that poor baby would have died if I
hadn’t gone and fetched it and given it into Linton’s charge. And poor
Maurice so fond of it, and creeping in by stealth to see it for fear
of hurting Eirene’s feelings! I have no patience with her. She might
be fond of it for his sake, if not for its own.”
“And how does the Lord Harold like the baby?” asked Danaë.
“Not at all. He objects most strongly to Linton’s attentions being
diverted from himself.”
“Ah, you will want me in the nursery again,” murmured Danaë
ecstatically; but Zoe caught a look from Armitage which implied that
he would have a word to say as to the way in which his wife disposed
of her time.
With Wylie’s arrival, quiet seemed to settle upon Therma. Troops and
police and populace all welcomed him, or found it politic to seem to
do so, and the European Consuls abandoned concerted action for the
moment in favour of drawing up separate claims for compensation for
damage done in the riot. Whether Professor Panagiotis had planned it
or not, the publicity which attended Wylie’s assumption of the command
of affairs served to distract attention from the movements of his
brother-in-law, and on the next evening the Consuls were astonished by
the intelligence that Prince and Princess Theophanis had arrived in
the city, and were staying at the Palace. They had been received at
the station by Colonel Wylie and the troops, the Ministers and the
municipality, and the guard of honour appointed to attend them during
their stay was composed exclusively of veterans who had fought in
Hagiamavra. Addresses of welcome had been presented to them, and on
the morrow they would visit the Legislative Chamber, and receive the
welcome of the Assembly. It was all very proper, and the explanation
that this was the state visit planned some time before, but postponed
on account of the lack of health of the Princess, appeared quite
satisfactory; but the Consuls were not satisfied. Why had they not
been invited to the station to take part in the arrival ceremony? they
asked, only to receive the obvious reply that Prince Theophanis was
not welcomed as a sovereign prince, but as one of the liberators of
Emathia, allied by close ties with the throne.
While the Consuls were busy taking counsel with one another, and
Professor Panagiotis was employing every means in his power to ensure
a full attendance of the members of the Assembly on the morrow, the
party at the Palace was the same as that which had met at Klaustra on
the night of Danaë’s short-lived social triumph. Many changes had
taken place since then, but the most surprising was the transformation
in Princess Theophanis. It was difficult to believe that she was the
woman who but a short time ago had turned her face to the wall in
bitterness of soul and longed for death, or the weary chatelaine of
Klaustra, haunted by the knowledge that the battle she was fighting
had already been decided against her. Now she moved regally about the
stately rooms, almost as if she felt she had a rightful place there.
She showed marked kindness to Danaë, and Danaë and Zoe commented on
the fact to one another.
“What a change to have been brought about by the mere prospect of a
temporary regency!” said Zoe. “I suppose she feels that it establishes
Maurice’s position, but really she is no nearer her ambition than
ever.”
“The Lord Theophanis is pleased to see the change,” said Danaë.
“Yes, isn’t it pathetic to see his eyes following her about? She is
like what she was when he married her, before her ambition had come
between them. There really was a time when she seemed to think love
was enough, but it didn’t last.”
“I wonder,” said Danaë slowly, “whether she would speak to me so
kindly if she knew that, were the choice mine, the regents would be
the Lord Glafko and you, lady?”
“I really don’t think it would affect her. She knows that nothing
would induce us to take Maurice’s place, and I’m afraid she wouldn’t
care much what your wishes were, Danaë. What are you going to wear
to-morrow?”
“Not kalpak and dolman, at any rate,” said Danaë, with a sigh of
relief, for her two days of command were like a nightmare to look back
upon. It was an immense comfort to feel, when she rose on the morrow,
that all the military arrangements were in Wylie’s capable hands, and
that Armitage and she could resign themselves to take a purely
decorative part in the day’s proceedings. There was an unusual sense
of stir about the city, for the country-people, with whom the story of
the hard-fought and apparently hopeless fight in Hagiamavra was
rapidly assuming the character of a national epic, were pouring in to
see Prince Theophanis and his brother-in-law. The Palace square was
crowded long before the carriages were ready to start, and the Place
de l’Europe Unie so closely packed with a friendly, good-humoured
throng that it was difficult to make a way for them. The elements of
disorder were not in evidence to-day, at any rate, and the soldiers
received cordial welcome, while Maurice and Eirene were greeted with
tremendous cheering. The triumph lasted until they had actually
reached the threshold of the Chamber, but here came a disagreeable
interruption. The foreign Consuls had learnt or divined the cause of
the visit, and were assembled to protest against it in the name of
Europe. That Prince Theophanis should be proclaimed regent during the
illness of Prince Romanos was not to be thought of. Since there was no
question of a hereditary dynasty, Janni had no rights that needed
protection, and if it was simply a matter of appointing a guardian for
him, it would be most incorrect to choose a person who had made
himself so prominent in politics. As for the maintenance of government
and tranquillity in Emathia, that might safely be left to the Powers.
If Prince Romanos felt himself unequal to his duties, he had only to
resign them into the hands of Europe, and Europe would proceed to
agree upon his successor, as it would have done if he had held office
for the full five years of his appointment.
The protest was read in the name of his brethren by the Pannonian
Consul-General, who succeeded in restraining a smile even when he
spoke of the agreement of Europe, and it evoked loud murmurs among the
members of the Assembly who heard it. The language in which it was
couched was distinctly unfortunate from the point of view of its
promoters, for the Emathians had been learning for nearly four years
to regard themselves as a free people electing their own sovereign,
and now they were abruptly reminded that their country was still
technically dependent on Roum, and that their liberties existed at the
mercy of the Powers. The news filtered through the crowd in the
portico to the greater crowd in the square, and cries of anger began
to rise. But Professor Panagiotis kept his head. Requesting Maurice’s
permission to reply, he inquired deferentially what exactly it was
that the representatives of Europe desired. Since the natural anxiety
of Prince Romanos, in view of the events of the past week, for the
safety of his family and the stability of his government was not to be
allayed, would he be permitted simply to appoint a guardian for his
child? There was much murmuring among the nearer Emathians at the
Professor’s conciliatory tone, especially when Herr Melchthal replied,
with scarcely veiled contempt, that Europe had no desire to interfere
with the guardianship of a mere private individual such as Prince
Joannes Christodoridi. The Professor countered swiftly. Yet it seemed
that his Highness was not allowed to appoint his honoured
brother-in-arms, Prince Theophanis, to the charge of his child; might
he, then, appoint the Cavaliere Pazzi, the father of his deceased
wife? There was some demur at this, for was not the Cavaliere the heir
of Maxim Psicha? But the discontent of the deputies and the people was
growing so highly pronounced that the Consuls yielded the lesser
point, having gained the greater, and the Professor went down the
steps to lay the news before the invalid at the Palace. But the square
was now in a turmoil, and the crowd, unreasonable in their
indignation, refused to let him pass. He had betrayed Emathia, and
they would keep him until the Prince’s answer arrived. Professor
Panagiotis bowed to the storm, and a messenger was sent off. A time of
tension followed, the Consuls, though masters of the field, looking
decidedly uncomfortable in face of the sour looks cast upon them. The
deputies glared askance at the Professor, who chatted with great
unconcern to the party from the Palace. They were almost as
uncomfortable as the Consuls, not knowing whether anything had gone
wrong, or whether a preconceived plan was being worked out.
“If only the Consuls had made their protest before we started!”
lamented the Professor, as the moments went by. “It is so thoughtless
of them to keep the Princess standing like this! You would not care to
wait inside the building, madame?” he asked solicitously of Eirene,
who shook her head. “His Highness’s answer must come soon, of course,”
he resumed. “Perhaps he will even telephone--” he was looking in the
direction of the Palace, in spite of his words, and his jaw fell.
“_Kyrie Eleēson_!” he cried violently, and crossed himself.
The rest followed with their eyes the direction of his shaking hand,
and Consuls, deputies and crowd turned with them to look along the
street which led to the Palace. The standard of Prince Romanos was
flying at half-mast from the flagstaff.
“What is it? What has happened?” everyone was crying.
“The spoilt child of Europe has abdicated in a pet,” said the
Pannonian Consul-General confidently, but the snarl of hatred which
rose from the deputies made him turn aside with a rather unsuccessful
laugh.
“A messenger! a messenger!” came the cry from the square. In the
strain of the moment, no one thought of the telephone. All stood
gazing with white faces towards the man who was forcing his way
through the crowd.
“Holy Peter! it is Terminoff!” cried the Professor, and as the surging
throng washed up Dr Afanasi Terminoff, hatless and with torn coat, at
the foot of the steps, he ran down to meet him. “Doctor, why have you
left your patient?”
“Because he needed me no more!” shouted the doctor furiously. “His
Highness is dead!”
“Dead! dead!” the word was echoed by a thousand throats, and the
people in the square tore their clothes and cast dust upon their
heads. Dr Terminoff was still facing the Professor.
“How did you dare send that message?” he cried. “You knew on how
slender a thread his life hung. Here have we kept him alive from day
to day, in the hope that this morning’s ceremony would set his mind at
rest, and give him opportunity to recover, and you destroy all the
result of our care in a moment!”
“Don’t blame me,” said the Professor, pale with anger. “All-Holy
Mother of God! the fault was not mine.” His eagle-glance round called
the deputies and the crowd to witness as well as the Panagia, and in
one moment the air was rent with shrieks of “Down with Europe!” The
life of a foreign Consul in the Balkans is not at any time a very
peaceable one, but it is probable that the assembled diplomatists had
never been in quite such imminent danger before. Mr Wildsmith leaned
over the parapet by which he was standing.
“Colonel Wylie, we shall hold you responsible,” he said. There was a
stir of hoofs as the troopers under the wall moved forward a pace or
two, pressing back the crowd from the immediate neighbourhood of the
Consuls, but they were still in most unpleasant proximity to the
deputies, whose full-dress array allowed of a considerable exhibition
of weapons. Hands were on daggers and revolver-butts, when Professor
Panagiotis spoke again, this time from the top of the steps.
“Free citizens of Emathia, our Prince is dead. The descendant of the
Emperors, the hero who led us in battle, the statesman who has made
Emathia what she is, is lost to us. Shall his work be destroyed? Is
Europe to snatch away from us the liberties we wrested from Roum at
the cost of untold suffering and bloodshed? You say she shall not. I
take you at your word. Let us proceed at once to the election of
another Prince, who shall carry on the work our lost hero had begun.
Is there any doubt whom we should choose? Is not the friend, the
comrade of Romanos with us, who submitted to waive his own claims and
labour for the good of Emathia, to whom he whom we have lost desired
to entrust the safety of the nation? Theophanis for Prince!”
From the deputies and the crowd in the square burst an overwhelming
shout, “Theophanis for Prince!” Daggers were drawn and revolvers fired
in the air, and the shouting went on unabated. Herr Melchthal retained
his presence of mind through all the noise. He approached the
Professor.
“In the name of Europe I protest against this farce,” he said loudly.
“No mandate has been given for an election.”
“No mandate is needed,” was the fiery reply, and the deputies cheered
again. “Here are the representatives of free Emathia, responsible only
to God and their country. They will now proceed, with all possible
solemnity, to repeat by means of the ballot the election they have
just made by acclamation. Mr President, will you be good enough to
convene the Assembly?”
The crowd in the square were silent now, watching with eager eyes the
deputies as they filed into the building. An attempt at further
protest on Herr Melchthal’s part was met with cries of “Privilege!”
and he and his colleagues were forced to assert the dignity of Europe
in no more effective way than by withdrawing in a body, lest by their
presence they should be supposed to countenance what was going on. It
was a bitter pill to be obliged to request safe-conduct from Wylie for
their passage through the streets, but the choice lay between this and
sneaking out at the back of the Chamber, and each diplomatist was duly
guarded through the hostile throng by equally hostile soldiers, and
seen safe to his own door.
The actual election occupied a very short time. The last of the
Consuls had barely left the square when a deputation of members came
to invite their Highnesses to enter the Chamber. Here there was a
slight difficulty, for some of the deputies wished to impose a
condition which Maurice declined to accept, but the rest prevailed
upon them to withdraw their stipulation, and Maurice and Eirene
Theophanis emerged under the great portico Prince and Princess of
Emathia. Eirene had cast aside her cloak, and stood magnificent in a
gown of Byzantine splendour, with the Girdle of Isidora about her
waist. The jewel was recognised at once and another shout went up.
“The talisman! the talisman! Hail to the Orthodox Empress!”
She stilled them with a motion of her hand. “The Princess of Emathia
to-day, friends; and to-day is the proudest day of my life so far.”
The underlying thought was so clearly implied that the people shouted
again, and the hastily formed processions bringing bread and salt to
offer to the new sovereigns could hardly pass. Everywhere in the crowd
travelled persons who had visited Klaustra were lauding the
administration of Maurice and Wylie and prophesying benefits to
Emathia from their rule, and Zoe, Armitage and Danaë shared in the
enthusiasm aroused. When they escaped at last from the many hands held
out reverentially to touch their clothes, it was to be thankful for
the refuge offered by their carriage, as it moved at a foot-pace
across the square. Danaë sank into her place like one dazed. The
events of the last two hours--her brother’s death, the instant
election of his rival--were not to be grasped as yet.
“What I should like to know,” said Armitage suddenly to Zoe, “is when
Prince Romanos really died.”
“Oh, that has struck you too, has it?” said Zoe. “When do you think?”
“At first I thought last night, but now I am inclined to wonder if it
may not have been as soon as he reached the Palace after Petros
stabbed him.”
“In that case Professor Panagiotis must have a good deal on his
conscience--in the way of forgery and so on.”
“I think we may safely say that his conscience will never trouble him
to the point of making him confess,” said Armitage.
“And therefore we shall never know, I suppose,” said Zoe.
“Not unless Terminoff quarrels with the Professor, and splits.”
“Or the Professor quarrels with us all, and writes his memoirs. But in
that case one could hardly depend on what he said, so it would be as
doubtful as ever.”
“Whenever it was,” said Armitage with conviction, “Princess Theophanis
knew of it last night. She is in it with him.” Zoe’s eyes met his, and
he saw that she agreed with him.
“Do you mean, lady,” said Danaë, rousing herself from her trance of
bewilderment, “that all the time they told me I was preserving the
throne for my brother and Jannaki, I was keeping it for your brother
instead?”
“I am afraid it looks like it, Danaë,” said Zoe gently. “You would
not have done it if you had known?”
“I would have done it for you, lady,” was the doleful reply.
“But if it means that Princess Zoe will live here instead of at
Klaustra?” suggested Armitage.
“Oh, that we shall all live together at the Palace?” said Danaë, with
reviving cheerfulness. “Ah, lady mine, then I shall be able to be with
you always!”
“In that case, I fear Lady Zoe would have to put up with a good deal
of me,” said Armitage. “Shall we say sometimes instead of always?”
* * * * * * * *
That evening, in response to the shouts of the people who filled the
square, Prince and Princess Theophanis appeared upon the balcony over
the principal entrance to the Palace, and exchanged greetings with
their new subjects. As Maurice handed his wife back into the room
after one of these appearances he pressed her hand.
“Happy at last, Eirene? I hope so, dear.”
“Not quite,” she said quickly. “Maurice, why did you refuse to betroth
Isidora to Janni as the Greeks wished? It was such a natural and
proper thing to do.”
“What! to bind those two babies irretrievably to one another?”
“These people do it constantly, to end a feud. And there would be no
hardship in it. I should bring up Isidora to regard the boy as her
destined bridegroom, and she would never think of anyone else.”
“But suppose she did? You were brought up to regard a Scythian Grand
Duke as your destined bridegroom, but that didn’t prevent you from
thinking of me. Why should your daughter be different? Or suppose
Janni preferred to marry some one else? No, we won’t risk making the
children unhappy.”
“They are princes. It is the drawback of their position.”
“Then we will save them from it as far as we can. And even for our own
sakes---- Why, Eirene, think. Would the Powers tolerate our linking
the claims of Maxim Psicha with our own at the present moment, even if
they consent to acknowledge my election as valid?”
“It might have been managed secretly,” she said, and walked away
restlessly, to look out at the dark masses of people in the square. It
was always like this; Maurice would thwart her to the end, not merely
by means of obstinacy, but with some show of reason and equity. If the
way to her goal involved a breach with his convictions, he would not
follow it. And that day had brought her so much nearer! In this age of
revolutions and counter-revolutions, of compromises and buffer states,
the phantom glories of a revived Eastern Empire might not be so very
unreal, after all. She saw them clearly enough, but it was through a
mist of passionate tears. No son of hers would sit on the throne of
the Cæsars, it was only too probable now that even her daughter would
never be acclaimed in Hagion Pneuma as Orthodox Empress. She had
gained the prize which was to be the stepping-stone to the greater
glory, but to her husband it was a burden rather than a gain, and the
child for whose sake she had first grasped at it lay buried in
Hagiamavra. The coveted fruit was little but dust and ashes after all.
THE END.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES.
Sydney C. Grier was the pseudonym of Hilda Caroline Gregg.
This book is part of the author’s “Balkan Series II.” The series, in
order, being: _The Heir_, _The Heritage_, and _The Prize_.
The book’s sole image, a frontispiece, was of such poor quality in the
source PDF that I didn’t include it. A quality copy will be added if it
ever becomes available. If you can provide this image please contact
Project Gutenberg support.
Alterations to the text:
Punctuation corrections: some quotation mark pairings.
Footnotes have been placed in square-brackets in-line with the text.
[Title Page]
Add brief note indicating this book’s position in the series. See
above.
[Chapter XII]
Change “to do the same _downtairs_” to _downstairs_.
[Chapter XIV]
“it was _worth while_ following up” to _worthwhile_.
[Chapter XVII]
“the _Caveliere_ read it through” to _Cavaliere_.
[Chapter XX]
“_the_ took the precaution of a whispered warning” to _she_.
“and was designed _te_ emphasize the” to _to_.
[Chapter XXIV]
“A _fusilade_ from the revolvers” to _fusillade_.
[Chapter XXVI]
“that all the military _arragements_ were in...” to _arrangements_.
[End of Text]