The woman’s tone was quite steady. She was used to a soldier’s life. Besides, she understood the man’s responsibility and wished to help him. 25 And Landor Raynor, looking into the gray eyes that were to him the gates of the heart of purest womanhood, could not resort to subterfuge.
“They will be on us before morning, dearest,” he said, and it was only by the greatest effort he could check a tide of self-accusation. But the woman understood and quickly interposed.
“I feared so, Landor. Are you ready? I mean for the fight?”
“We are preparing. I thought of sending you and little Marjorie south with Jim, on saddle horses, but——”
“No. I would not go. I am what you men call ‘useful with a gun.’” She laughed shortly.
There was a silence between them for some moments. And in that silence a faint and distant sound came to them. It was like the sound of droning machinery, only very faint.
The wife broke the silence. “Landor, we are old campaigners, you and I.”
“Yes, Al.”
The woman sighed ever so lightly.
“The excitement of the foreknowledge of victory is not in me to-night. Everything seems—so ordinary.”