She made no noise, save the fluttering
of her skirts, and her loud and rapid panting on account of her
long, hard run. She sprang before Long-Hair and faced the platoon.
"You cannot, you shall not kill this man!" she cried in a voice
loaded with excitement. "Put away those guns!"
Woman never looked more thrillingly beautiful to man than she did
just then to all those rough, stern backwoodsmen. During her
flight her hair had fallen down, and it glimmered like soft
sunlight around her face. Something compelling flashed out of her
eyes, an expression between a triumphant smile and a ray of
irresistible beseechment. It took Colonel Clark's breath when he
turned and saw her standing there, and heard her words.
"This man saved Lieutenant Beverley's life," she presently added,
getting better control of her voice, and sending into it a
thrilling timbre; "you shall not harm him--you must not do it!"
Beverley was astounded when he saw her, the thing was so
unexpected, so daring, and done with such high, imperious force;
still it was but a realization of what he had imagined she would
be upon occasion. He stood gazing at her, as did all the rest,
while she faced Clark and the platoon of riflemen. To hear his own
name pass her quivering lips, in that tone and in that connection,
seemed to him a consecration.
Pages:
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429