"Am I not going into battle now? And aren't you a soldier's daughter?"
There was another moment of silence in which he looked out on the sparkling waters of the Blue Nile and she gazed through clouded eyes on the sluggish waves of the White.
Something had suddenly begun to rise in her throat. This was the real Gordon, the hero who had won battles, the soldier who had faced death before, and she had never known him until now!
A whirlwind of sensation and emotion seemed to race through her soul and body. She felt hot, she felt cold, she felt ashamed, and then all at once she felt as if she were being lifted out of herself by the spirit of the man beside her. At length she said, trying to speak calmly—
"You are right, quite right; you are always right, Gordon. If you feel like that about going into Cairo you must go. It is your duty. You have received your orders."
"Helena!" he cried, in a burst of joy.
"You mustn't think about me, though. I'm sorry for what I said a while ago, but I'm better now. I have always thought that if the time ever came to me to see my dearest go into battle, I should not allow myself to be afraid."
"I was sure of you, Helena, quite sure."
"This doesn't look like going into battle, perhaps, but it may be something still better—going to save life, to prevent bloodshed."
"Yes, yes!" he said; and struggling to control herself, Helena continued—