"You are safe. You are safe." I heard the words even among the
babel, and I pulled like a wild animal at my bonds to free myself and
reach her side.
But I was held fast, and while I struggled came a mighty cry from
behind me, "Mary! Mary! Mary!" Starling's Goliath frame pushed by
me, and his captors were hurled like pygmies to each side.
The woman was unprepared. She cried at sight of him with a deep
throaty terror that sent the blood to my brain. Starling would have
pressed himself to her, but she put out her unbound arms and fended him
away. And then he stood with his great height bowed and pleaded to
her. I had shrugged at the English for their hard reserve, but when I
heard this man I learned again that it is always the dammed torrent
that is to be feared. Even the Indians heard in silence.
The silence lasted. Never before nor since have I known savages to
take the background and let two whites play out a tragedy unchecked.
But now they formed a ring and watched. They forgot their interest in
me and let me go. I could stand unheeded. An old man threw tinder on
the fire, and we saw each other's faces as in the searching, red light
of a storm. I watched the cords in Starling's neck tighten and relax
as he talked on and on.
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