After a long dreamy period as untroubled as a summer sea, some instinct compelled her to open her eyes, and she found herself looking straight into the eyes of Mrs. Lupo who was standing at the foot of the hammock. Mrs. Lupo held her hands behind her back. Miss Campbell noticed at once that the woman’s expression had changed. She had lost that look of a shy gentle animal. Her eyes had narrowed into little slits and her upper lip was drawn back showing an even row of glistening teeth. Without taking her eyes off Mrs. Lupo’s, Miss Campbell sat up very straight and stiff.
“Well, what do you want?” she demanded, always holding the woman’s gaze with hers.
Mrs. Lupo moved a step nearer, still with her hands behind her back.
“Stand where you are,” ordered Miss Campbell, fired with superhuman courage and never once shifting her gaze. “Stand where you are,” she repeated. There was not a tremor in her voice. “Now, give me what you are hiding behind you.”
For at least a moment the two women stood looking at each other. If Miss Campbell had flinched, there is no telling what the half-savage creature, insane with rage, might have done.
And even now, with a swift movement, Mrs. Lupo brandished a long carving knife in Miss Campbell’s face.
“Drop that instantly,” thundered Miss Campbell in a voice that did not seem to be her own.
But the force of her splendid will and courage struck home. The carving knife slipped from Mrs. Lupo’s hand and stood upright between them in the board floor of the porch.
“Get down on your knees,” ordered Miss Campbell, and all this time she had never taken her eyes off Mrs. Lupo’s.
The knife was still swaying on the point of its blade, as the woman sank to the floor in a quivering, sobbing heap.