“You say so?” she inquires, with a look of incredulity. “I do not believe it—will not, without hearing it from his own lips.”
While speaking, she springs past the kneeling suppliant, and, before he can get upon his legs or stretch forth a hand to detain her, she has glided out of the tent, and makes for the place where she supposes the prisoners to be kept.
Starting to his feet, Uraga rushes after. His intent is to overtake and bring her back, even if he have to carry her.
He is too late. Before he can come up with her she has reached the spot where her brother lies bound, and kneels beside him with arms embracing, her lips pressing his brow, his cheeks moistened by her tears.
Chapter Sixty Eight.
A Terrible Intention.
Not for long does the scene of agonised affection remain uninterrupted. In a few seconds it is intruded on by him who is causing its agony.
Uraga, hastening after, has reached the spot and stands contemplating it. A spectacle to melt a heart of stone, it has no softening effect on his. His brow his black with rage, his eyes shining like coals of fire.