Rosebud dried her tears. Never in her life had Seth appeared to her as he appeared now. The steady, unruffled purpose of the man exalted him in her eyes to an impossible position. Somehow the feelings he roused in her lifted her out of her womanly weakness. She, too, was capable of great, unswerving devotion, but she did not realize it. She only felt that she, too, must bear her part in whatever fortune had in store for them. She would range herself beside this man and share in his success or failure. If it were to be failure she was ready to die at his side. If it were success—a great exultation swept over her at the thought. She went no further. Success at his side would be worth—everything.
“Tell me what I can do—anything!” she cried. Her tone was low, but it rang with a note the man had never heard in it before. There was a joy in 279 it that startled him. “Seth, I believe—I know—I want to—to fight. My blood is running like fire. Tell me what I am to do.”
It was a few moments before Seth answered her. He was thinking hard. He knew she could do much. But he was debating with himself. A great pride was his as he contemplated the small face with its wonderful eyes out of which looked such steadfast courage. He, too, thrilled at the thought of fighting at her side, but he tried to tell himself that he had no right to ask anything of her. Perhaps Rosebud saw the drift of his thoughts in his face, for she gave him no chance of denial.
“Yes, the gates. That’s all right. I understand. Now, what else? Can’t I reconnoitre, or—or something in the meantime?”
Her enthusiasm carried the day.
“No, I guess not. But——”
“Yes, yes——”
“See, Rosie, we want time. I kind o’ think it’s to-morrow. Parker thinks so too. So does Hargreaves. We may be wrong. But—see right here, I’m due back here by two o’clock sure. If I’m not here by ten minutes after ther’s this you ken do. Go straight back o’ the barn ’bout a hundred paces; on the hill are two bunches of stuff piled up, one’s wood, t’other’s dried grass an’ stuff. You go right out an’ kindle ’em both. They’re signals to the settlers around. Guess ther’s eyes watchin’ for ’em at every farm. When you see ’em burnin’ steady, git right back and 280 rouse Rube an’ Ma. I’ll git back later—sure. An’ ther’ll be others with me.”
“Yes. Anything more?”
“Nope. I ’lows I’ll saddle up.”