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Updated: June 17, 2025
Colonel Landcraft had gone up the river to carry a new message to the homesteaders whose houses lay in ashes. He had ridden to tell them that they could build in security and live in peace. The surgeon had returned to the post, but was coming again tomorrow. Behind him he had left the happy assurance that Macdonald would live.
Frances Landcraft appeared at the ball as an Arabian lady, meaning in her own interpretation of the masking to stand as a representation of the "Thou," who is endearingly and importantly capitalized in the verses of the ancient singer made famous by Irish-English Fitzgerald. Her disguise was sufficient, only that her hair was so richly assertive.
"If time and events prove so unkind to me that I never come to a vindication in this country," he said, "just go on thinking of me as a thief and a wild rider, and a man of the night. Good-bye, Miss Landcraft." She closed the door, and stood cooling from her sudden resentment at seeing him there alive when her heart had told her that he must be lying dead in the dust of the river trail.
I command you hold your tongue!" "It's the farthest thing from my heart to give you pain, or disappoint you in your calculations of me, father," she told him, her voice gathering power, her words speed, for she was a warrior like himself, only that her balance was not so easily overthrown; "but I am not going to marry Major King." "Heaven and hell!" said Colonel Landcraft, stamping up and down.
The sentry paced before the flagstaff, decorum prevailed. There was not one small particular loose to give him ground for flying at the culpable person and raking him with his blistering fire. Colonel Landcraft turned into his own house with a countenance somewhat fallen as a consequence of this discovery.
"Your appearance is opportune, Miss Landcraft," her father told her, with no trace of ill-humor. "Come in. Here is this wild Alan Macdonald come bursting in upon us from his hills." The colonel indicated him with a wave of the hand, and Macdonald bowed, his heart shrinking when he saw how coldly she returned his greeting from her place at the door.
"I want twenty-five troopers and a cannon, and somebody that knows how to use it, and I want 'em right away!" Chadron gave the order with a hotness about him, and an impatience not to be denied. "Sir!" said Colonel Landcraft, throwing his bony shoulders back, his little blue eyes growing very cold and unfriendly.
Major King was enjoying the passage between the girls, riding at Nola's side with his cavalry hands held precisely. "If I'm not mistaken, the gentleman in question is there talking to Miller, the agent," said he, nodding toward two horsemen a little distance ahead. "But I wouldn't excite him, Miss Landcraft, if I were you.
Her imperious chin was as high as Major King ever had carried his own in the most self-conscious moment of his military career. "Will you take it to him?" she demanded. "Certainly not!" returned the major, haughtily emphatic. Then, softening a little, "Don't be silly, Frances; what a row you make over a scrap of blowing paper!" "Then I'll take it myself!" "Miss Landcraft!" "Major King!"
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