The destruction of the royal arms.
At seven o'clock in the long, fiery day the great bell rang. The bugle sounded again. People ran hither and thither. A rocket flared across the sky, and a great cry went up:
"Down with the arms!"
A procession headed with soldiers passed through the streets of the city bearing with them a glittering sign. Military music filled the air.
The old man's daughter Mercy came to see him under the tree and to persuade him to go home with her.
"Mercy—daughter—what are they carrying away?"
"The king's arms from the State House; that is all, father."
"All! all! Say you rather that it is the world!"
The roseate light faded from the high hills and the waters. The sea birds screamed, and cool breezes made the multitudinous leaves of the tree to quiver.
"Mercy—daughter—and what was that?"