"And we are not afraid for the future!" she continued. "And the other men and women in Little Rivers are not afraid for the future!"
"No, not afraid under this sun, in this air. Afraid!"
An unconquerable flame had come into his eyes in answer to that in
Mary's.
"The others have asked me to act for them, and I think I may yet save our rights," said Jack. "Will you also trust me?"
"Will I trust you, Jack? Trust you who gave up your inheritance?" exclaimed the Doge. "I would trust you on a mission to the stars or to lead a regiment; and the wish of the others is mine."
Jack had turned to go, but he looked back at Mary.
"And you, Mary? I have your good wishes?"
He could not resist that question; and though it was clear that nothing could stay him—as clear as it had been in the arroyo that he would keep his word and face Leddy—he was hanging on her word and he was seeing her eyes moist, with a bright fire like that of sunshine on still water. She was swaying slightly as a young pine might in a wind. Her eyes darkened as with fear, then her cheeks went crimson with the stir of her blood; and suddenly, her eyes were sparkling in their moisture like water when it ripples under sunshine.
"Yes, Jack," she said quietly, with the tense eagerness of a good cause that sends a man away to the wars.
"That is everything!" he answered.