“You are a sneaking scoundrel to use those words,” said Captain Dawson, when able to command his voice; “all the past is wiped out except that of the last two days; I shall shoot you for stealing my child from me.”
The lieutenant looked calmly into the countenance of the man, and, lowering his tones almost to a whisper, that was perfectly audible to all, replied:
“I am at your disposal.”
From the moment Captain Dawson learned of the flight of his child, he had been eager for but one thing,––the opportunity to draw bead on the miscreant, without giving him an instant to prepare for death. That opportunity was his but he hesitated. Something that he could not explain, but which incensed him, held his hand motionless.
But perhaps the end would have been the same, when he rallied from the momentary struggle, had not his daughter awakened from the daze that had held her mute and motionless. Like Pocahontas, she sprang forward, with arms again outstretched, and with a faint shriek, flung them about the form of her lover.
“Shoot father, if you will, but you shall kill me too!”
Felix Brush shivered and turning away his head, muttered in a broken voice:
“My God, Wade! I can’t stand this!”
Ruggles attempted to reply, but the words choked in his throat. Still he and Adams kept their eyes upon the three before them. Ruggles was on the point of interfering when Nellie Dawson averted the necessity.