It was the camp.
Where that light shone the men lay in hiding. Well--it was simple. To
her mind there was no need for----
The sound of a rifle shot split the air with significant abruptness.
The sound banished the last of her half-angry causing. The moment had
come. She raised herself up for no other reason than tense drawn
suspense.
A second shot. Then a rattle of musketry which suggested general
conflict. She drew a deep breath. Far away in the distance it seemed
she heard a sharp cry. It was the final shriek of a human creature in
the agony of a mortal wound. Then followed the sound of hoarse voices
shouting.
For some moments nothing in the scene changed. The speck of light
shone out twinkling and gleaming like some evil eye. For the
rest--there remained the deep twilight marked by the myriads of summer
stars.
But the cries of men, the trampling of speeding hoofs held her. The
breathlessness of the whole thing was upon her now, making it
impossible to detach her regard from the main features.
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