It was as though the shadow of her heartless folly had risen
before her and become an iron wall of unrelenting, measured
retribution against which she beat herself in vain. He lifted his head
higher, seeming to gather together his shaken powers of self-control.
"I can not trust you," he said again, "nor can I turn back. But there
is one thing from the past which can not be changed. I love you. It
seems that must remain through all my life. And because of that love I
must save you from the death that awaits your countrymen." He smiled
in faint self-contempt. "It is not for your sake that I shall save
you; it is because I am too great a coward, and can not face the
thought that anything so horrible should come near you." He turned to
two native soldiers behind him and gave an order. When he faced
Beatrice again he saw that she held a revolver in her hand.
"You do not understand," she said. "You say you mean to save me, but
that is not in your power. It is in your power to save us all, but not
one alone. I know what my people have resolved to do. There are weak,
frightened women among them, but not one of them will fall into your
hands alive. Whatever happens, I shall share their fate."
Though her tone was quiet and free from all bravado, he knew that she
was not boasting. He knew, too, that she was desperate.
"You can not force me to kill you," he said sternly.
"I think it possible," she answered.
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