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Cullum, Ridgwell, [pseud.], 1867-1943

"The Forfeit"

The spell of it
all was almost painful. She knew that life and death were at grips
down there in that cauldron of conflict. And though at moments
shudders passed through her body, they were neither shudders of
weakness nor womanish horror. Her only emotion was excitement, and her
nerves were ready to respond in physical expression to every vision her
eyes communicated to them.
An hour passed thus. The bluff was a furnace, roaring, booming. It
lit the valley seemingly from end to end. The night shadows had been
swept aside, and the scene lay spread out before her eyes. She saw
dismounted riders moving about. She beheld one group; a number of men
huddled together, held as though they were prisoners.
At last firing altogether ceased and the straggling horsemen began to
reassemble in the vicinity of the chief group. Then, as the raging
fire ate its way through to the hither side of the bluff, and turned
the final barrier into a wall of fire, the whole party moved away down
the valley with obvious signs of haste.


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