We both hushed our
breathing till we heard the moan of the water and the lament of some
strange night bird. The woman was so small, and yet I left her in the
wilderness without me!
"Keep close to the camp," I said hoarsely. "No, I know of no danger.
But keep close to the camp."
Her glance came back to me. "Ah, you do think there is danger! But,
monsieur, of yourself---- If there is peril for me there must be more
for you."
She looked at me fully, with no fear in her eyes, but with quick,
intelligent concern. She stood beside me in the dusk, as wife should
stand with husband, and feared for my safety and forgot her own. Yet I
dared not touch her hand. I lifted my sword and slammed it in its
scabbard.
"There is no danger," I said, with stupid brusqueness. "I am
over-anxious. I bid you good-night, madame."
I went to the Malhominis with haste pushing me, for I hoped for news of
Starling. I pressed forward, yet I recoiled. There would be
cross-threads to untangle when I met my wife's cousin.
It was wonderful voyaging to the Malhominis. Their village was near
the mouth of a river, and they were close bound with great rice swamps
that gave them their name. Our low canoe burrowed through a tunnel of
green as we nosed our way up to their camp.
Pages:
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232