It was said. Senator Danvers stepped back to his seat amid a buzz of blended approval and hisses, which came to his brain as the sound of swarming bees. He felt sick and weak. His appeal seemed hopelessly futile. But he sat erect, with no sign of discouragement, and looked fixedly at Senator Blair in the hope of seeing some inkling of change from his declaration that if he came to the capitol he should vote for Burroughs. But Blair would not look his way.
Danvers did not hear the clerk of the Senate as he began the roll-call of the senators after the presiding officer had rapped for order. The first three men in the A's were irrevocably opposed to Burroughs and Danvers concentrated his whole thought on Senator Blair's change of heart.
While the men preceding Charlie were voting, Winifred whispered to her brother. He did not seem to hear, and his dazed eyes were still fixed straight ahead. The flaming red of the scar made his face look still more ghastly, and at times his form swayed dizzily.
"Do not vote for Mr. Burroughs," Winifred entreated. "For my sake, Charlie. You've always been willing to please me. Vote for any one else. Philip expects your loyalty. Vote for him, even. Show him that you, if no one else, appreciate his courage in facing these men and denouncing them before the entire Assembly."
"Blair!" came the stentorian voice from the desk. Necks were craned and men rose to whisper and to look as this man's name was called. How would he vote? Burroughs' throat grew dry to suffocation. Moore's gaze was imperturbable, but the muscles in his neck twitched perceptibly, while sweat beaded his upper lip. Danvers still kept his eye on the miserably shaken Blair, and still hoped.
Suddenly Charlie turned and threw him one look. Then he rose, slowly, with painful effort, holding his sister's supporting arm. He showed the effect of stormy weeks of passion as he stood a moment, silent.
"Vote for Philip, Charlie," whispered Winifred, under cover of assisting him. Blair looked around the room.