“Oh,” she cried, “you are mean!”
“Trade’s trade,” said he, but he held her quite gently and kindly. “Now, my fair madam——”
“IF YOU AIM AT ME YOU SHOOT THE CHILD.”
The men were hesitating, fingering their pistols. The horses, frightened by the sudden check, were dancing and prancing all across the road: the maidservants were shouting that it was true; he had the child, and better lose a few jewels than all their lives, and Cousin Bet was sobbing and wailing inside the dark coach.
Well, the jewels were handed out—that was how it ended—handed out slowly and grudgingly, and the hand that reached for them through the dusk was very white, Cousin Bet said afterwards.
Elfrida, held by the highwayman’s arm, kept very still. Suddenly he stooped and whispered in her ear.
“Are you afraid that I shall do you any harm?”
“No,” whispered Elfrida. And to this day she does not know why she was not afraid.
“Then——” said he. “Oh, the brave little lady——”