A REBEL STILL
difficult venture; yet, for the moment I hesitated, dreading the necessity, and feeling the love for her well up into my heart.
She was sufficiently in earnest, no doubt; indeed the intenseness of her attitude, the grip of her fingers on the weapon, her very posture, exhibited determination. And yet the woman in her was equally apparent; the quick trembling of her shoulders, the occasional uplifting of one hand as if she swept aside gathering tears. I could perceive one white cheek, and the fluffy brown of her hair, although the light was so dim that she seemed little more than shadow. In that moment of indecision I would have given the world to go to her, to clasp her in my arms, and stand beside her through right or wrong. War, duty, difference of political opinion, appearing nothing beside the appeal of that pathetic figure guarding the stairs. And yet, if I knew her nature at all, she would despise me if I failed to do my best for the cause in which I was enlisted. Weakness, surrender, would never win her. Womanly though she was, she came of fighting blood, and the man she trusted would have to prove himself. She could respect and admire a worthy enemy, but she would despise a weakling, even if his lack of manhood came through love of her. Besides, she was doing this for Donald, and the mere remembrance stiffened me instantly. She would not find me as easy as she thought; they should never get together and laugh over my discomfiture, or make light of me as a soldier. She had said this was war, and I would bear my part in it.
The door opened noiselessly, and I crept out, my eyes
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