He came to the door, ostensibly to close it, showing a scared face. "I didn't know what was coming," his lips shaped.
Ambrose nodded to him reassuringly, meaning to convey that nothing he had heard would influence his actions.
Giddings closed the door, and Ambrose returned down-stairs with a heart that sunk lower at each step. What he had at first regarded calmly enough as Gaviller's tragedy he now clearly saw was likely to prove tragic for himself.
It was useless to try to put Colina off.
"I must know!" she cried passionately. "I'm the head here now. I must know where we all stand."
Ambrose told her. To save her feelings he instinctively softened the harsher features. It did not do his own cause any good later.
"Oh, the wretch!" breathed Colina between set teeth. "I know him! A sneaking little scoundrel! Just the one to shoot from behind! To think we must let him go! That is the hardest."
Ambrose was silent.
"We must get the skin," she went on eagerly. "Giddings can't handle the natives. You do that for me."
"It is too late," said Ambrose grimly. "He is gone with it."