The things we do!

She noticed the reddish hair and beard, the
florid skin, the blue eye set deep--a fighting eye, yet that of a
visionary.
"You are a fanatic," she said.
"That is true. You, yourself, are of my own kind. You would kill
me without tremor, if you had orders, and I--"
"You would do as much!"
"You are of my kind, Madam. Yes; we both take orders from our own
souls. And that we think alike in many ways I am already sure."
"None the less--"
"None the less, I can not agree to set you down at Cairo, or at any
intermediate point. I will only give my promise in return for your
own parole. That, I would take as quickly as though it were the
word of any officer; but you do not give it."
"No, I do not. I am my own mistress. I am going to escape as soon
as I can."
He touched his cap in salute. "Very well, then. I flattered
myself we had done well together thus far--you have made it easy.
But now--no, no, I will not say it. I would rather see you defiant
than to have you weaken.


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