"
She pushed him away and stood pressing her trembling hands hard against
her temples, trying desperately to clear her thoughts. The thought of
calling on any one in the house did not cross her mind. There was
nothing to expect from the judge; he had fallen asleep in his chair at
the table. William Pressley would not believe there was any danger. He
never believed in any trouble or agitation. It would only annoy him.
Indeed, she scarcely thought of him at all. She caught the boy's arm
wildly, with her tears suddenly dried.
"Why don't you say something--do something!" she cried bitterly, "You
are no better than, a girl yourself."
She turned toward the house and ran a few steps only to come flying
back.
"I have thought of something--you must go after him! That's what you
must do! He may be wounded. He may need you to help him. Surely you
could fight if you tried. I could, myself! And you will try, dear, I
know you will, for my sake. Come! Run! Run! Let's go to the stable and
get the pony. He goes fast."
Her passionate excitement swept them along, and she and the boy were now
running toward the stable, hand in hand, hardly knowing what they did.
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