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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The Spirit of the Border"

His
besotted face expressed some terrible meaning.
Girty had looked at Nell when he first entered, but had not glanced
twice at her. As he turned now, before going out of the door, he
fixed on her his baleful glance. His aspect was more full of meaning
than could have been any words. A horrible power, of which he was
boastfully conscious, shone from his little, pointed eyes. His mere
presence was deadly. Plainly as if he had spoken was the
significance of his long gaze. Any one could have translated that
look.
Once before Nell had faced it, and fainted when its dread meaning
grew clear to her. But now she returned his gaze with one in which
flashed lightning scorn, and repulsion, in which glowed a wonderful
defiance.
The cruel face of this man, the boastful barbarity of his manner,
the long, dark, bloody history which his presence recalled, was,
indeed, terrifying without the added horror of his intent toward
her, but now the self-forgetfulness of a true woman sustained her.
Girty and Deering backed out of the door. Heckewelder closed it, and
dropped the bar in place.
Nell fell over the table with a long, low gasp. Then with one hand
she lifted her skirt. Benny walked from under it. His big eyes were
bright. The young woman clasped him again in her arms. Then she
released him, and, laboring under intense excitement, ran to the
window.


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