"Your sacred honor!" sneered Salina.
But Virginia said nothing. She stood like a clothed statue; only the eyes through which the fire of the excited spirit shone were not those of a statue; and the advanced white arm, beautiful and bare, from which the loose sleeve fell as it reared the axe, was of God's sculpture, not man's.
She seemed not to hear Lysander; for the promise of safety for herself was as nothing to her: she felt that she was there to defend, with her life, if needs were, the friends whom he had betrayed. Only a holy and great purpose like this could have nerved that gentle nature for such work, and made those tender sinews firm as steel.
There was something slightly devilish in the aspect of Salina; but Virginia was all the angel; yet it was the angel roused to strife.
"Call off your gals, Mr. Villars!" said Sprowl.
"Lysander!" said the solemn voice of the old minister from within, "hear me! We are but three here, as you see: a blind and helpless old man and two girls. Why do you follow to persecute us? Go your way, and learn to be a man. The business you are engaged in is unworthy of a man. My daughters do right to defend this place, which you, false and ungrateful, have betrayed. Attempt nothing farther; for we are not afraid to die!"
"Go in, boys!" shouted Lysander, himself shrinking aside to let the soldiers pass.
Salina fired the pistol—not at the soldiers.
"She has shot me!" said Lysander, staggering back. "Kill the fiend! kill her!"
Instantly two bayonets darted at her breast. One of them was struck down by Virginia's axe, which half severed the soldier's wrist. But before the axe could rise and descend again, the other bayonet had done its work; and the soldiers rushed in.