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"Oh, sir," cried Estelle, whose eyes, brows, lashes and hair were all of the same luminous red-brown, and in whose cheeks the rose seemed always to burn through the olive, "how can you and your people seek to kill such men as that?"

"Don't interrupt me, Smith. Yes, Clifton. You're not to reach there to-night--"

"Why, I can read my safety in your face. You can't read anything in mine; you're afraid to look."

I laughed a gay disdain. "Who is Lucius; is he Charlotte's husband?"

Glad was I then to be on a true cavalryman's horse that answered the closing of my left leg and moved steadily around till I could see down the bridge. Oliver, after a step or two, stopped. "Turn!" I yelled, and swelled. "One, two,--"

"Whose hand was it; that fellow's, yonder?" Oliver was several paces away.

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