It is a more terrible thing, this which is coming.

Body and soul we are to perish." He came over to her side once more and laid his hand soothingly on hers.

It was heart-rending to witness the agony of the woman he loved.
"Dear Louise," he said, "after all, this is profitless.

There may yet be compromises." She suffered her hand to remain in his, but the bitterness did not pass out of her face or tone.
"Compromises!" she repeated.

"Do you believe, then, that we are like those ancient races who felt the presence of a conqueror because their hosts were scattered in battle, and who suffered themselves passively to be led into captivity?
My country can be conquered in one way, and one way only,--not until her sons, ay, and her daughters too, have perished, can these people rule.