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Updated: July 1, 2025
It is simply that either he is not the man we all think him or you are acting in a way unbecoming a Zane. I do not purpose to have this state of affairs continue. Now, enough of this beating about the bush." Betty had seen the Colonel angry more than once, but never with her. It was quite certain she had angered him and she forgot her own resentment.
Jonathan Zane had returned that day after an absence of three weeks, and was now answering the many questions with which he was plied. "Don't ask me any more and I'll tell you the whole thing," he had just said, while wiping the perspiration from his brow. His face was worn; his beard ragged and unkempt; his appearance suggestive of extreme fatigue.
The large, voluptuous lady with the slowly declining eyelids raised them quietly as in languid surprise. "You mean the Zane murder? What is it?" asked a minister, while others gathered around, showing the ministry to have human curiosity even in the hour and article of death.
At this critical moment, a young lady, sister of Ebenezer Zane, came forward, and asked that she might be permitted to execute the service; and so earnestly did she argue for the proposition, that permission was reluctantly granted. The gate was opened, and the heroic girl passed out.
They did not speak. Lydia hesitated and looked toward Betty. "Betty, here is " began Col. Zane, but Betty passed them with flaming cheeks and with not so much as a glance at Alfred. It was an awkward moment for him. "Let us go in," he said composedly, and they filed into the church. As long as he lived Alfred Clarke never forgot that hour. His pride kept him chained in his seat.
She was helped into the buggy by Andrew Zane, and in a few minutes the two were in the open country pointing toward old Frankford. They rode up the long stony street of that old village, whose stone or rough-cast houses suggested the Swiss city of Basle whence the early settlers of Frankford came.
She could see that a certain constraint had momentarily fallen upon the company. It was an involuntary acknowledgment of the borderman's presence, of a presence that worked on all alike with a subtle, strong magnetism. "Ah, Jonathan, come out to see the sunset? It's unusually fine to-night," said Colonel Zane.
Though he said he had been frightened, his cool and careless manner belied his words. In Joe's low voice and clear, gray eye there was something potent and magnetic, which subtly influenced those with whom he came in contact. While his new friends were at dinner Joe strolled over to where Colonel Zane sat on the doorstep of his home. "How did you get on with the boys?" inquired the colonel.
The arrow was visible, but it seemed a mere spark. It alternately paled and glowed. One moment it almost went out, and the next it gleamed brightly. To the men, compelled to look on and powerless to prevent the burning of the now apparently doomed block-house, that spark was like the eye of Hell. "Ho, the Fort," yelled Col. Zane with all the power of his strong lungs.
Quickly, for God's sake!" she cried. A smothered exclamation, a woman's quick voice, the heavy thud of feet striking the floor followed Betty's alarm. Then the door opened. "Hello, Betts, what's up?" said Col. Zane, in his rapid voice. At the same moment the door at the end of the hall opened and Isaac came out. "Eb, Betty, I heard voices out doors and in the house. What's the row?" "Oh, Isaac!
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