His commanding
eyes still sought her face. Beyond a slight bow and one upward
glance, she did not display interest; yet in truth a sudden shiver
of apprehension came into her heart. This was a different sort of
man she now must endeavor to handle. What was it that his straight
glance meant?
It was a singular situation in which these three found themselves.
That she had asked the aid of this new-comer was a fact known to
all three of them. Yet of the three, none knew precisely the
extent of the others' knowledge. Dunwody at least was polite, if
insistent, in his wish to learn more of this mysterious young woman
who had appealed to him for aid, yet who now made no further sign.
Who was she? What _sort_ was she? he demanded of himself. God! if
she was one sort. And why should she _not_ be that sort? Did not
the River carry many sorts? Was not the army ever gallant? What
officer ever hesitated in case of a fair damsel? And what fair
damsel was not fair game in the open contest among men--that old,
old, oldest and keenest of all contests since this hoary world
began?
"I am sure the fatigue of the journey across the mountains must
have left you quite weary," he ventured, addressing her.
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