"But what—" The general's tone unmistakably indicated surrender; the Governor had already shifted the onus; Totten knew his brother-in-law's nature; the Governor would just as soon shift the odium after such an explosion as this wild Scotchman threatened.
"You needn't bother about the what, sir. You give the order. And as soon as the thing is on a business basis I'll tend to it."
Stewart took the liberty of hooking his arm inside the general's. The officer seemed to be experiencing some difficulty in getting his feet started. The two hurried along and trudged down the middle of the main stairway.
Lana followed. She halted at the gallery rail and surveyed the scene below.
Even in her absorption in the affair between Stewart and the adjutant-general she had been aware of the rising tumult outside.
The bellow of voices had settled into a sort of chant of, "Time's up—time's up!"
Captain Sweetsir had deployed his men across the rotunda behind the machine-guns.
When he beheld the mayor and the general on the stairs he saluted nervously. "They're getting ready to use sledge-hammers, sir. Shall I hand 'em the rifle-fire first or let loose with the machine-guns?"
Stewart still held to the general's arm.
Totten hesitated. His face was white and his lips quivered.