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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"Clarence"

And, in
repairing your fault, you are showing more than a woman's courage now."
To his surprise, the color had again mounted her pretty cheeks, and even
a flash of mischief shone in her blue eyes.
"It would have been an excuse," she murmured, "yes--to save a man,
surely!" Then she said quickly, "I will go. At once! I am ready!"
"One moment," he said gravely. "Although this pass and an escort insure
your probable safe conduct, this is 'war' and danger! You are still a
spy! Are you ready to go?"
"I am," she said proudly, tossing back a braid of her fallen hair. Yet
a moment after she hesitated. Then she said, in a lower voice, "Are you
ready to forgive?"
"In either case," he said, touched by her manner; "and God speed you!"
He extended his hand, and left a slight pressure on her cold fingers.
But they slipped quickly from his grasp, and she turned away with a
heightened color.
He stepped to the door. One or two aides-de-camp, withheld by his order
against intrusion, were waiting eagerly with reports. The horse of a
mounted field officer was pawing the garden turf. The officers stared at
the young girl.
"Take Miss Faulkner, with a flag, to some safe point of the enemy's
line.


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