"Before God, you will have
those words to unsay," he hissed.
Yetive felt the slight body of the girl quiver and then grow tense.
The eyes of Baldos now were fixed on the white, drawn face of Beverly
Calhoun, who stood quite alone at the top of the steps. She began to
sway dizzily and he saw that she was about to fall. Springing away from
the guards, he dashed up the steps to her side. His arm caught her as
she swayed, and its touch restored strength to her--the strength of
resentment and defiance.
"Don't!" she whispered hoarsely.
"Have courage," he murmured softly. "It will all be well. There is no
danger."
"So this is the woman!" she cried bitterly.
"Yes. You alone are dearer to me than she," he uttered hurriedly.
"I can't believe a word you say."
"You will, Beverly. I love you. That is why I came back. I could not
leave you to meet it alone. Was I not right? Let them put me into
irons--let them kill me--"
"Come!" cried Colonel Quinnox, reaching his side at this instant. "The
girl will be cared for. You are a prisoner."
"Wait!" implored Beverly, light suddenly breaking in upon her. "Please
wait, Colonel Quinnox." He hesitated, his broad shoulders between her
and the gaping crowd below. She saw with grateful heart that Yetive and
Lorry were holding the steps as if against a warlike foe. "Is she--is
she your wife?"
"Good heavens, no!" gasped Baldos.
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