“You gave up—”
“Allie,” he interrupted, passionately, “don’t talk of ME!... You haven’t kissed me!”
Allie blushed. “I haven’t?... That’s all you know!”
“Have you?”
“Yes I have—I have.... I was afraid I’d strangled you!”
“I never felt it. I lost all sense of feeling.... Kiss me now! Prove you’re alive and love me still!”
And then presently, when Neale caught his breath again, it was to whisper, “Precious Allie!”
“Am I alive? Do I love you?” she whispered, her eyes like purple stars, her face flooded with a dark rose color.
“I’m forced to believe it, but you must prove it often,” he replied. Then he drew her to a seat beside him. “I’ve had many dreams of you, yet not one like this.... How is it you are alive? By what Providence?... I shall pray to Providence all my life. How do you come to be here? Tell me, quick.”
She leaned close against him. “That’s easy,” she replied. “Only sometime I want to tell you all—everything.... Do you remember the four ruffians who visited Slingerland’s cabin one day when we were all there? Well, they came back one day, the first time Slingerland ever left me alone. They fired the cabin and carried me off. Then they fought among themselves. Two were killed. I made up my mind to get on a horse and run. Just as I was ready I spied Indians riding down. I had to shoot the ruffian Frank. But I didn’t kill him. Then I got on a horse and tried to ride away. The Indians captured me—took me to their camp. There an Indian girl freed me—led me away at night. I found a trail and walked—oh, nights and days it seemed. Then I fell in with a caravan. I thought I was saved. But the leader of that caravan turned out to be Durade.”