Alice heard his inquisitive voice; but it seemed to come from far
off; his words were a part of the strange, wild swirl in her
bosom. Beverley's look, as he turned and left her, now shook every
chord of her being. He had gone to his death at her command. How
strong and true and brave he was! In her imagination she saw the
flag above him, saw him die like a panther at bay, saw the gay rag
snatched down and torn to shreds by savage hands. It was the
tragedy of a single moment, enacted in a flashlight of
anticipation.
She released Jean so suddenly that he fell to the floor. She
remembered what she had said to Beverley on the night of the dance
when they were standing under the flag.
"You made it and set it up," he lightly remarked; "you must see
that no enemy ever gets possession of it, especially the English."
"I'll take it down and hide it when there's danger of that," she
said in the same spirit.
And now she stood there looking at Jean, without seeing him, and
repeated the words under her breath.
"I'll take it down and hide it. They shan't have it."
Madame Roussillon began to call from the other room in a loud,
complaining voice; but Alice gave no heed to her querulous
demands.
"Stay here, Jean, and take care of Mama Roussillon," she presently
said to the hunchback. "I am going out; I'll be back soon; don't
you dare leave the house while I'm gone; do you hear?"
She did not wait for his answer; but snatching a hood-like fur cap
from a peg on the wall, she put it on and hastily left the house.
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