“I don’t like it—I don’t like it!” he protested bitterly.
She slipped her arms about his neck. Her eyes sought his with yearning in their depths.
“Never speak or think that thought of me again, my own,” she whispered. “I, too, know how to die as well as you. This is the third and last lesson we shall teach the Daughters of Jael before the Day dawns! Those who give their honor will scorn the cheaper gift of life. The new sun will rise on a clean and glorious womanhood, redeemed by sorrow and humbled by a divine passion for country we could learn in no other school but this!”
She held him at arm’s length and slowly slipped her hands from his and waved him back.
“No more—until the Day dawns!”
“Until the Day dawns, my love!” he breathed tenderly.
She leaped on her pony and galloped into the solemn night alone—to deliver her orders to the Daughters of Jael for their third and final lesson.
CHAPTER XLII
THE preparations for the grand celebration of the Conqueror’s birthday by the people of America were complete to the last detail at noon on the day preceding.
The Governor-General was determined to make this event an example in promptness, glorious display and perfect efficiency. How prompt and efficient its real managers were going to make it he could not dream!