"Yes, on this great river."
"Oh, Captain Courteney——"
"Don't Courteney or captain me now, Ramsey, whether this is beginning or end." There was a silence, and then—
"Hugh," she said, as softly as a female bird trying her mate's song, "you mustn't ask my father. You mustn't ask any one. I can't let you."
"Your father's already asked. If he consents I go ashore at Natchez, having telegraphed ahead from Vicksburg——"
"You shan't. You shan't go to my brothers. You shan't go armed and you shan't go unarmed."
"Yes, I shall. I'll go and settle with them in an hour without the least fear of violence on either side."
"Armed with nothing but words? You shan't. And armed with anything else you shan't."
"Ramsey, words are the mightiest weapon on earth. The world's one perfect man—we needn't be pious to say it—set about to conquer the human race by the sheer power of words and died rather than use any other weapon. Died victorious, as he counted victory. And the result—a poor, lame beginning of the result—is what we call Christendom."
"You shan't die victorious for me."