But Galloway knew what he was doing and they turned slowly
toward the southwest. As they rode, his horse drawn in close to hers,
he talked as he had never talked before; his voice rang from the first
word with triumphant assurance.
"When he calls she will follow!" Virginia had thought fearfully of
them. To-night he was calling eloquently, she was following,
frightened and yet obedient to his mastery.
Galloway's influence over the girl, that of a strong will over a weak
and fluttering one, was quite naturally the stronger when they were
alone together. She had always been willing, sometimes a bit eager, to
make a hero of him; he had long thoroughly understood her. To-night
was the brief battle of wills, with him summoning all of his strength,
flushed with victory. Abruptly now he urged that she marry him; a
moment later his insistent pleading was subtly tinged with command. He
was the arbiter of the hour; he told her of a priest waiting for them
at a little village a dozen miles away. They would be married
to-night; they were eloping even at this palpitant instant!
When Florence would have stopped, of two balancing minds, he urged the
horses on. When she would have procrastinated, he beat down her
opposition with the rush of his words. Even while she struggled she
was yielding; Galloway was quick to see how her resistance was growing
fainter.
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