“Single combat,” she said demurely, smiling at him under half-veiled lids. And the same little thrill passed through him again, and the quick color rose to his smooth, sunburnt face.
“I was ready to beat a retreat on sight,” he said; “now I surrender.”
“I make no prisoners,” she replied in airy disdain.
“You give no quarter?”
“None.... Why did you come back?”
“You said I might.”
“Did I? I had quite forgotten what I had said to you. When are you going to let me go?”
His face fell and he looked up at her, troubled.
“I’m afraid you don’t understand,” he said. “We dare not send you away under escort now, because horses’ feet make a noise, and some prowling Yankee vidette may be at this very moment hanging about the pass——”
“Oh,” she said, “you prefer to let me remain here and be shot?”