But David bent over his fire, did not raise his
eyes to the charming tableau, that had its own delightfulness to the
two participants, and that one of the participants intended should show
him how sweet Susan Gillespie could be when she wanted.
All of which trivial matter combined to the making of momentous matter,
momentous in the future for Susan and David. Shaken in her confidence
in the subjugation of her slave, Susan agreed to his suggestion to ride
to the bluffs after supper and see the plains under the full moon. So
salutary had been his momentary neglect of her that she went in a
chastened spirit, a tamed and gentle maiden. They had orders not to
pass out of sight of the twin fires whose light followed them like the
beams of two, watchful, unwinking eyes.
They rode across the bottom to where the bluffs rose, a broken bulwark.
That afternoon Susan had found a ravine up which they could pass. She
knew it by a dwarfed tree, a landmark in the naked country. The
moonlight lay white on the barrier indented with gulfs of darkness,
from each of which ran the narrow path of the buffalo.
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