"You will go?"
"I will save your brother--if I can!"
"You can--you can--" she breathed. In an ecstasy of gratitude she seized
one of his hands in both her own. "You can save him!"
"For you--I will try."
"For me--"
She was so close that he could feel the throbbing of her bosom. Suddenly
he lifted his free hand and brushed back the thick hair from her brow
and turned her face until what dim light there still remained of the day
glowed in the beauty of her eyes. "I will keep him from the island if I
can," he said, looking deep into them, "and as there is a God in Heaven
I swear that you--"
"What?" she urged, as he hesitated.
"That you shall not marry Strang!" he finished.
A cry welled up in the girl's throat. Was it of gladness? Was it of
hope? She sprang back a pace from Nathaniel and with clenched hands
waited breathlessly, as if she expected him to say more.
"No--no--you can not save me from Strang! Now--you must go!"
She retreated slowly in the direction of the path. In an instant
Nathaniel was at her side.
"I am going to see you safely back in St. James," he declared. "Then I
will go to your brother."
She barred his way defiantly.
"You can not go!"
"Why?"
"Because--" He caught the frightened flutter of her voice again.
"Because--they will kill you!"
The low laugh that he breathed in her hair was more of joy than fear.
"I am glad you care--Marion." He spoke her name with faltering
tenderness, and led her out into the path.
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