"Grey, Zane - Betty Zane" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grey Zane)

"For God's sake, Betty, I did not mean to do that! Wait. I have something to
tell you. For pity's sake, let me explain," he cried, as the full enormity of
his offence dawned upon him.

Betty was deaf to the imploring voice, for she ran into the house and slammed
the door.

He called to her, but received no answer. He knocked on the door, but it
remained closed. He stood still awhile, trying to collect his thoughts, and to
find a way to undo the mischief he had wrought. When the real significance of
his act came to him he groaned in spirit. What a fool he had been! Only a few
short hours and he must start on a perilous journey, leaving the girl he loved
in ignorance of his real intentions. Who was to tell her that he loved her?
Who was to tell her that it was because his whole heart and soul had gone to
her that he had kissed her?

With bowed head he slowly walked away toward the fort, totally oblivious of
the fact that a young girl, with hands pressed tightly over her breast to try
to still a madly beating heart, watched him from her window until he
disappeared into the shadow of the block-house.

Alfred paced up and down his room the four remaining hours of that eventful
day. When the light was breaking in at the east and dawn near at hand he heard
the rough voices of men and the tramping of iron-shod hoofs. The hour of his
departure was at hand.

He sat down at his table and by the aid of the dim light from a pine knot he
wrote a hurried letter to Betty. A little hope revived in his heart as he
thought that perhaps all might yet be well. Surely some one would be up to
whom he could intrust the letter, and if no one he would run over and slip it
under the door of Colonel Zane's house.

In the gray of the early morning Alfred rode out with the daring band of
heavily armed men, all grim and stern, each silent with the thought of the man
who knows he may never return. Soon the settlement was left far behind.



CHAPTER V.

During the last few days, in which the frost had cracked open the hickory
nuts, and in which the squirrels had been busily collecting and storing away
their supply of nuts for winter use, it had been Isaac's wont to shoulder his
rifle, walk up the hill, and spend the morning in the grove.

On this crisp autumn morning he had started off as usual, and had been called
back by Col. Zane, who advised him not to wander far from the settlement. This
admonition, kind and brotherly though it was, annoyed Isaac. Like all the
Zanes he had born in him an intense love for the solitude of the wilderness.