The
last charred log had fallen apart, spreading a swarm of golden glow-worms over
the black earth, there was still enough light to reveal a ring of muffled
forms sprawling around the sloping sides of the hollow, with their feet toward
the fire and their heads lost in darkness. Pausing in the tree-shadow, the
girl thrilled with sudden hope. Since their faces were all hidden, how was she
to distinguish her victim? Even the dead must see that it would be impossible.
If the burden could only be lifted from her!
Fate was inexorable. At that moment, the warrior directly in front of her
stirred in his sleep and flung a jewelled hand over his face. Those broad gold
rings with the green stones that sparkled like serpents' eyes as they caught
the light! They were fixed indelibly in her memory, for she had seen them on
the rapacious hand that had seized upon her while it was still red with her
father's blood. Only from them, she could reconstruct every hard line of the
hidden face. Suddenly, in the rage that rose in her at the recollection, she
found determination for the deed.
The sentinel nearest her was snoring at his post; the further one would not be
able to reach her in time, even should he see her. Somewhere, far away, a cock
was crowing; and it came to her suddenly that the breathlessness about her was
the hush that precedes the dawn.
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