“You’re right.” He caught her hand again. “I’ve got to be going now. But Nance—Nance—Nancy, I want to stay here, here with you; or to take you with me.”
She drew back. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Take me with you—me—where?”
“East—away down East.”
Her brain throbbed, her pulses beat so hard. She scarcely knew what to say, did not know what she said. “Why do you do this kind of thing? Why do you smuggle?” she asked. “You wasn’t brought up to this.”
“To get this load of stuff through is life and death to me,” he answered. “I’ve made six thousand dollars out here. That’s enough to start me again in the East, where I lost everything. But I’ve got to have six hundred dollars clear for the travel—railways and things; and I’m having this last run to get it. Then I’ve finished with the West, I guess. My health’s better; the lung is closed up, I’ve only got a little cough now and again, and I’m off East. I don’t want to go alone.” He suddenly caught her in his arms. “I want you—you, to go with me, Nancy—Nance!”
Her brain swam. To leave the West behind, to go East to a new life full of pleasant things, as this man’s wife! Her great heart rose, and suddenly the mother in her as well as the woman in her was captured by his wooing. She had never known what it was to be wooed like this.
She was about to answer when there came a sharp knock at the door leading from the back yard, and Lambton’s Indian lad entered. “The soldier—he come—many. I go over the ridge, I see. They come quick here,” he said.
Nance gave a startled cry, and Lambton turned to the other room for his pistols, overcoat, and cap, when there was the sound of horses’ hoofs, the door suddenly opened, and an officer stepped inside.
“You’re wanted for smuggling, Lambton,” he said, brusquely. “Don’t stir!” In his hand was a revolver.
“Oh, bosh! Prove it,” answered the young man, pale and startled, but cool in speech and action.