He stopped, and the woman began to speak to him. The white man watched her, and a great light burst upon him. She was glorious, this slim, soft brown thing with the dusky hair and the straight, slender neck, and—"I'se little, but I ain't afraid." Ages of civilization dropped from the man as he gazed, and with a graceless pity he compared the pale fettered women he had known with this free, wild, perfect thing whose feeling was her life. She was talking with her tongue and eyes and hands, and Fagan answered a few words and laughed, and she laughed, too, a sound as natural and sweet as the ripple of a stream, and then her great eyes lighted with earnestness as she went on. The Lieutenant felt a pang of something almost jealousy. He could never bring fire to those eyes, he was not a man to her, only a thing, not to be compared with that black giant.
Fagan turned to him with an amused chuckle. "She's full o' ginger," he said. "I raickon it's lucky I was heah when you come. She's jus' been askin' when I was goin' to kill you. 'You must,' she says, 'or else he'll lead soldiers up heah.' That's all right, Lootenant," he said, as the officer moved uneasily. "That's you' duty, an' it's all right, only she don' understand that. 'Le's kill him now,' she says. 'You keep a talkin' with him, an' I'll put the knife into him from behin'. It won' be no trouble at all.' Lawszee," he chuckled admiringly, "I raickon she'd a done it, too. She's got moah ginger!"
The Lieutenant smiled with him, but he soon rose, unobtrusively, and seated himself with his back to the solid corner-post of the house. Patricia watched the manoeuvre with unfathomable eyes, and the men burst into laughter; then she hung her head like a child caught in some mischief. The gesture was adorable, and suddenly sadness stifled the white man's laughter.
"I'm sorry about reporting your presence here," he said. "I understand, I think, and I believe you don't want to make trouble, but—"
"Don' you worry about that," Fagan broke in. "I'se a gwine to send you down to the ra'alroad this afternoon. An' now Patsí's goin' to get you some dinner."
"Fagan," said the Lieutenant, yet more earnestly, while his guard waited for him to mount, "I'm right sorry about this. But—why don't you come down with me now and surrender?" he asked impulsively. "That will help, and I can explain some things to the court, and you'll only get six months or so, for desertion. Only six months, and then—you can come back to Patricia," he ended almost enviously.
The negro seemed to swell before the white man's astonished eyes. "I'se sorry, too. It's been mighty pleasant, livin' heah," he said simply. "An' thank you fer askin' me to come down. I know you means it straight. But you can't see it like I do. Down theah I'se a niggah soldier. Up heah I'se— Nobody ain't got any right to try me," he burst out. "I nevah troubled them. You tell the Kuhnel that, I want he should understan'. I don' want to huht no one, but I'se nevah gwine into no gahd-house again. Good-by, Lootenant, an' luck. I don' raickon we all'll evah meet up again."
Fagan and Patricia.