She did not turn at Susan's
strangled whisper.
"We'll never see you again, Bella, nor I, nor the children."
"Perhaps, some day, in California. He's there. I must go."
"Lucy!" She leaped after her. In the tent opening they once more
clasped each other.
"I can't let you go," Susan moaned.
But Lucy's kiss had not the fervor of hers. The strength of her being
had gone to her lover. Friendship, home, family, all other claims hung
loose about her, the broken trappings of her maidenhood. The great
primal tie had claimed her.
A black figure against the pallor of the night, she turned for a last
word.
"If you tell them and they come after us, Zavier'll fight them. He'll
fight if he kills them. They'll know to-morrow. Good-by," and she was
gone, a noiseless shadow, flitting toward the denser group of shadow
where her heart was.
Susan, crouched at the tent flap, saw her melt into the waiting
blackness, and then heard the muffled hoof beats growing thinner and
fainter as the silence absorbed them.
She sat thus till the dawn came. Once or twice she started up to give
the alarm, but fell back.
Pages:
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294