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It may have been the way they walked around on their long, fragile hind legs, the way they stroked their pointed chins as they sat and watched and listened with their pointed ears lifted alertly, watching with soft gray eyes, or the way they handled objects with their little four-fingered hands.
If the hand that beat him was the hand that fed him the hand of his master then the beating seemed an honorable and reasonable thing to him. True, the skipper had not yet lifted a fist to him; but in this case darkling glances served quite as well as blows. Bill had seen the strength of Dennis from the first and from the first had loved it as a thing to serve as the spirit of mastery.
A couple of Spanish sailors leaned down from the low side and lifted first the half unconscious girl and then the cadet up to the deck. And then, weak and pale and dripping wet, they confronted a tall, ugly-looking Spaniard with an officer's chevrons. He stared at them curiously. "Who are you?" he demanded.
"Don't you take the credit of that!" shouted the woman, so loudly that a young man who had been aimlessly walking up and down as if intent upon some rendezvous, stopped short to gaze at them keenly. The older woman, with a movement so rapid that it seemed almost prestidigitation, lifted and threw back her companion's veil.
She sat down on a piece of broken timber and put one arm across her face. He waited then, approaching his lips to her ear, "Let us go," he whispered. "Never never from here," she cried out, flinging her arms above her head. He stooped over her, and her raised arms fell upon his shoulders. He lifted her up, steadied himself and began to walk, looking straight before him.
The bitterness had lifted from her spirit. Her heart beat faster. She was a treasure-seeker on the verge of a great discovery. Trembling, she lifted her eyes. . . . There on the smooth wood, like a scroll upon a marble pillar, were words, rough-hewn but unmistakable Fide et Amore. . . . It was as if a voice had spoken in her soul, a dear, insistent voice, bidding her begone.
All the endless night Kut-le led the way under the midnight blackness of the piñon or the violet light of the stars, until the lifting light of the dawn found them across the ranges and standing at the edge of a little river. In the dim light there lifted a terraced adobe building with ladders faintly outlined on the terraces.
"In the morning, after a sleep of several hours, she further examined herself to see if entirely healed, and found both knees perfectly well; and though for sixteen years she had not been able to use either, now she lifted the left foot and put it upon the right knee, thus proving the completeness of her restoration.
And he lifted up the umbril of his helmet, and Sir Percival perceived that that white knight was Sir Launcelot of the Lake. And Sir Launcelot said: "Percival, I well knew who you were from the first, but I thought I would see of what mettle you are, and I have found that you are of very good mettle indeed.
"Come, aid me with the pole." Then they lifted the dead tree, and between them carried it into the middle of the plain, where they set it up in a crevice of the rock. By this time the storm was almost over them, and watching it Owen perceived that the lightnings struck always along the bank of the stream, doubtless following a hidden line of the bed of ironstone.
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