Tressa rose in the sunset glory and stood as though dazed, and all crimsoned in the last fiery bars of the declining sun.
Cleves also rose.
Sansa laughed noiselessly: “My lord would go whither thou goest, Heart of Fire!” she whispered. “And thy ways shall be his ways!”
Tressa’s cheeks flamed and she turned and looked at Cleves.
Then Sansa rose and laid a hand on Tressa’s arm and on her husband’s:
“Listen attentively. Tiyang Khan must be destroyed. The signal sounds when my lord’s rifle-shot makes a loud noise here among these trees.”
“Can I prevail against the Tchor-Dagh?” asked Tressa, steadily.
“Is not that event already in God’s hands, darling?” said Sansa softly. She smiled and resumed her seat beside Selden, amid the drooping fern fronds.
“Bid thy dear lord leave his rifle here,” she added quietly.
Cleves laid down his weapon. Selden pointed eastward in silence.