"Will your allegory hold good, petite?" smiled Cecil, thinking but
little of his answer or of his companion, of whose service to him he
remained utterly ignorant. "I fancy speech is the chaff most generally,
little better. So, they talk of you for the Cross? No soldier ever, of a
surety, more greatly deserved it."
Her eyes gleamed with a luster like the African planets above her; her
face caught all the fire, the light, the illumination of the flames
flashing near her.
"I did nothing," she said curtly. "Any man on the field would have done
the same."
"That is easy to say; not so easy to prove. In all great events there
may be the same strength, courage, and desire to act greatly in those
who follow as in the one that leads; but it is only in that one that
there is also the daring to originate, the genius to seize aright the
moment of action and of success."
Cigarette was a little hero; she was, moreover, a little desperado;
but she was a child in years and a woman at heart, valiant and ruthless
young soldier though she might be. She colored all over her mignonne
face at the words of eulogy from this man whom she had told herself she
hated; her eyes filled; her lips trembled.
"It was nothing" she said softly, under her breath. "I would die twenty
deaths for France."
He looked at her, and for the hour understood her aright; he saw that
there was the love for her country and the power of sacrifice in this
gay-plumaged and capricious little hawk of the desert.
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