She started from the seat as though she would have fled in a swift panic. But now I caught her.
"Stop!" I exclaimed, rage in all my heart. "I've been a fool long enough, and now I will have no more of foolishness. I will try no more to figure niceties. I'll not try to understand a woman. But gentleman or not, I swear by God! if we were alone again, we two, out there—then I'd not use you the same the second time whatever you said, or asked, or pleaded, or argued, I would not listen—not a word would I listen to—you should do as I said, as I desired. And I say now you must, you shall!"
Anger may have been in my face—I do not know. I crushed her back into the seat.
And she—Ellen—the girl I had seen and loved in the desert silences?
She sank back against the rail with a little sigh as of content, a little smile as of a child caught in mischief and barred from escape. Oh, though I lived a thousand years, never would I say I understood a woman!
"Now we will end all this," I said, frowning. I caught her by the arm and led her to the gallery, where I picked up the bag I had left at the driveway. I myself rang at the door, not allowing her to lead me in. The orderly came.
"My compliments to General Meriwether," I said, "and Colonel Cowles would like to speak with him."
He came, that tall man, master of the mansion, dusty with his travel, stern of face, maned like a gray bear of the hills; but he smiled and reached out his hand. "Come in, sir," he said. And now we entered.
"It seems you have brought back my girl again. I hope my welcome will be warmer than it was at Laramie!" He looked at us, from one to the other, the brown skin about his keen eyes wrinkling.
"I have certain things to say, General," I began. We were walking into the hall. As soon as I might, I handed to him the confession of Gordon Orme. He read it with shut lips.