“You kissed me once. Would you like to do it now? You may if you will let my father go.”
His gaze, before so glowing, actually dropped in confession before her cold, hard eyes, and for a moment it seemed as if such supreme and icy indifference had been able quite to chill his ardor. But as he lifted his eyes again, and looked upon her, the temptation of so much submissive beauty proved too great. He snatched her in his arms and covered her lips and cheeks and temples with burning kisses, for one alone of which he would have deemed it cheap to give his life if he could not have won it otherwise. He kissed her, passive and unresisting as a statue, till in very pity he was fain to let her go. Even then she did not start away, but standing there before him, pallid, rigid, with compressed lips and clenched hands, said faintly:
“You will release my father?” He bowed his head, unable to speak, and she went out.
The people whispered to each other as she passed through the crowd, that she had failed in her mission, she looked so white and anguish-stricken. And when she reached home and throwing herself into a chair, covered her face with her hands, her mother said:
“The Lord's will be done. You have failed.”
“No, mother, I have not failed. Father will be released, but I had liefer have borne the whipping for him.”
But that was all she said, nor did she tell any one at what price she had delivered him.
Desire had scarcely gone when the door opened and Hubbard and Abner came in. Perez was sitting staring at the wall in a daze.
“Little Pete's come, and the people want to know when the whipping's going to begin. Shall I bring em out?” said Hubbard.
“I've made up my mind that it will be better to have no whipping,” replied Perez, quietly.