“This is Mr. Yesler, Laska. Mr. Yesler—Miss Lowe. I think you have never met.”
“Never before to-night,” he said, pinning the bandage in place round the plump arm. “There. That’s all just now, ma’am. Did I hurt you very much?”
The young woman felt oddly exhilarated. “Not much. I’ll forgive you if you’ll tell me all about the affair. Why did they want to hurt you?”
His big heart felt very tender toward this girl who had been wounded for him, but he showed it only by a smiling deference.
“You’re right persistent, ma’am. You hadn’t ought to be bothering your head about any such thing, but if you feel that way I’ll be glad to tell you.”
He did. While they sat there and waited for the coming of the doctor, he told her the whole story of his attempt to stop the corruption that was eating like a canker at the life of the State. He was a plain man, not in the least eloquent, and he told his story without any sense that he had played any unusual part. In fact, he was ashamed that he had been forced to assume a role which necessitated a kind of treachery to those who thought they had bought him.
Laska Lowe’s eyes shone with the delight his tale inspired in her. She lived largely in the land of ideals, and this fight against wrong moved her mightily. She could feel for him none of the shame which he felt for himself at being mixed up in so bad a business. He was playing a man’s part, had chosen it at risk of his life. That was enough. In every fiber of her, she was glad that good fortune had given her the chance to bear a part of the battle. In her inmost heart she was even glad that to the day of her death she must bear the scar that would remind her she had suffered in so good a cause.
Virginia, for once obliterating herself, perceived how greatly taken they were with each other. At bottom, nearly every woman is a match-maker. This one was no exception. She liked both this man and this woman, and her fancy had already begun to follow her hopes. Never before had Laska appeared to show much interest in any of the opposite sex with whom her friend had seen her. Now she was all enthusiasm, had forgotten completely the pain of her wound in the spirit’s glow.
“She loved me for the danger I had pass’d,
And I loved her that she did pity them.
This only is the witchcraft I have us’d.’”
Virginia quoted softly to herself, her eyes on the young woman so finely unconscious of the emotion that thrilled her.