heads for them! Fill them with,
lead if they won't leant any biher
"The chief said he had been ad
vised not to use force, arid Mar
well grew purple.
'"yho advised you?' he de
manded. "'Your daughter safd the
" 'I have no daughter,' said the
old man. 'Stop the parade.'
, "There was something in the
air that afternoon. It made me
jumpy and nervous. MarweH felt
it, too. He kept pacmg up and
downmuttering to himself.
"About 8 o'clock the chief's au
tomobile whirled up again, and
the chief, white-faced and sweat
ing, broke into the room.
'"Hell has broken, loose,' he
cried. 'The clubs are being used
now, and unless we let them be it
will be the guns soon.'
"'Then use the gunsf cried
Marwell, but his face was white,
"The Chief fumbled with bis fpr
a moment, and choked and swal
lowed. Then he mumbled:
" 'Your daughter '
"Marwell's face hardened like
" 'I have no daughter,' he said.
"So the chief left and the min
utes went by, and I felt as if a
'dead weight were pressing ort my
heart. Marwell kept walking up
and down, with his head bent on
his breast and his mouth twitch
'Suddenlv he stooned and rais
ed his head.
'"What's that, Guernsey?' he.
cried. haf s thatf
"The sound I heard makes me
shiver to this day. It was the
sound of thousands marching
slowly and singing as th'ey march
ed. And) the song they sang was
the hymn of the workers, the In
ternationale. ""Marwell jumped io the tele
phone and called the chiefs num
ber. Ht got it, and asked what the
matter was. The chief muttered
something- and then hurig up on
him. Marwell turned to me,
" 'He hung up on me,' he said.
'The chief liung up on me. WBat
d'you think it is, Guernsey?'
"The slow, thunderous tramp
of the thousands of feet and the.
deep-throated wail of the hymn
grew more and mpre loud.
" 'They're coming here, Guern
sey,' Marwell muttered. "They're
coming here, and the chief hung
tip on me.'
"Then he straightened up.
" 'Come on,' he cried. 'We've
got work to do
"He served out arms to all the
servants and stationed them at
the windows. He switched out
every light in the house and then
he and I went out on the porch.
"The tramp of feet drew up to
the house. The singing stopped.
The night was black and we
couldn't make put what they were
-doing. We could just hear the
soft shuttling of feet, the rustling
jf skirts and the whisper of low
orders. It was creepy to he
crouching there, tugging a rifle
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