“God!” broke from Warren’s white lips as he caught her just in time. For a second he held her in a close embrace, she clinging to him in affright. There was extraordinary gravity in both look and tone as he leaned his cheek against the cropped curly head that nestled close to his throat like a frightened child, and said: “Winona, let me say it now before we go to meet we know not what—thank God I have known you—so noble, so patient, so sweet. Despite the dangers of our situation, the hours we have passed together have been the happiest of my life.”
Forgetful of time and place, youth yielded to the sway of the love-god, and for one dazzling instant the glory of heaven shone upon them.
“What harm just once?” thought the girl as she rested in his embrace. “Tomorrow it may not matter about race or creed, one or both of us will belong to eternity; pray God that I may be the one to go.”
CHAPTER XV.
It was not Judah who had blown the warning blast, but it came from one of his party sent by him to warn them of the approach of the enemy. The messenger was pale as death, the veins standing out on his forehead, and his left arm hanging useless at his side. The horse, panting and covered with foam, stopped, and Maybee caught the rider in his arms.
“What is it, boy?” he asked.
“Rangers,” the poor fellow gasped out. “Three hundred around the old farmhouse. Coming down on you. Judah says he can hold them off until daybreak. I got out, but they shot me.”
Captain Brown seemed transformed; his eyes burned like coals. Maybee put his hand on his shoulder.
“What’ll you do, Captain, start now or later?”
“Two hours after midnight. The boy knows his business,” was the laconic reply as drawing long, deep breaths, John Brown made for the horses.