Page:Randall Parrish - The Red Mist.djvu/209

 Rh would ever know—excepting us two. But if I did speak she could not deny, and she must realize why I had kept silent, why I had even gone down to death with closed lips. She could not be a woman and fail to appreciate such a sacrifice. It would live in her memory; she would think of me as not altogether unworthy; she would know some time this was not a trick, but an accident, in which my part was as innocent as her own. Resentment would die out in her heart, and a kindlier feeling creep in. And then—there was yet a chance! While there was life there was hope, and I was soldier enough, and sufficiently reckless, to accept of any opportunity. There might occur a relaxation in the vigilance of the guard, some delay at Lewisburg, possibly a forwarding of me to headquarters at Charleston—some sudden, unexpected opening through which I could squeeze. I was ready enough to try, however desperate the occasion; and, if such a chance did serve, the end might not come merely with escape. I could see her again; talk with her face to face. It became a fascinating dream, an inspiration—at last a grim determination.

And so through the mud we rode steadily on, following the pike that curved along the base of the mountains, and finally into the streets of Lewisburg.