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Updated: June 4, 2025
Diane glanced carelessly to the north and sprang to her feet with wild scarlet in her cheeks. Ronador was coming through the forest. His color was a little high, his eyes, beneath the peak of his motoring cap profoundly apologetic, but he was easier in manner than Diane.
I do not know what it is here that frightens me so. And I will marry Ronador. Every wild thing in the forest loves and mates. And I I am very lonely." But by the time the Mulberry Moon of the Seminoles blanketed the great marsh in misty silver Diane was restlessly on her way back to the world of white men. Philip followed.
He stayed so long upon his knees that Tregar touched him gently on the shoulder. "Ronador," he said gently. "Come. You are very ill and know not what you say." Ronador staggered blindly to his feet. Once more he waved the Baron aside and took up his terrible dialogue with the inner Voice. "The Voice! The Voice!" he whispered. "Thou shalt not kill! Thou shalt not kill!
There are things a man may not do even for his country one is murdering women. Now, though I pledged myself through loyalty to my country, my king, my regent and yourself to spying and murder and petty thievery, with a consequent chain of discomfort and misunderstandings for myself, I am through and mightily glad of it!" "And what have you accomplished?" flamed Ronador passionately.
Why did he watch by night in the forest. To spy! Can you not see it?" "Surely, surely," said Diane, "you must be wrong!" But Ronador could not be wrong.
"Surely, surely!" exclaimed Diane hopelessly, "there is some mistake. There is so much that is utterly without light or coherence. So much " For the first time Ronador spoke. "What," said he sullenly to Philip, "would you have us do?" "I would have you eliminate the secrecy, the infernal intrigue, the scheming to smother a fire that burned wilder for your efforts," said Philip civilly.
"Have I not even kept your secret from your father?" "Yes." "Then tell me," asked the Baron bluntly, "why you must come to America and hysterically complicate this damnable mess by a bullet!" Greatly agitated, Ronador fell to pacing to and fro. Heavy cypress shadows upon the water moved like pointing fingers. "Is there nothing I may keep from you?" broke from him a little bitterly.
It seemed that I must make one final desperate effort to make her understand " With the memory of the eyes of Diane and Philip flashing messages of utter trust that day beneath the trees, the Baron sighed. "Ronador," he said kindly, "it would have been in vain." "And now," Ronador moistened his pallid lips, "there is a rumble of war from Galituria."
Was Ronador forgotten? Tregar thought so. These two mutely avowing with blazing eyes their utter trust and loyalty had for the moment forgotten everything but each other. Ronador stalked viciously away to the lake, restlessly turned on his heel with a curse and came slowly back. There was despair in his eyes.
There were quieter intervals when she pieced the impossible segments all together again and stared aghast at the result. No matter how incredulous her attitude, however, when the scattered angles slipped into unity, riveted together by a painful concentration, the result, with its consequent light upon the wooing of Ronador, though more and more startling, was in the main convincing.
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