But I did ask you here to tell you what nobody,
not even you, suspects--but what I know!--and that is that she's a
TRAITOR--and more, a SPY!--and that I've only got to say the word,
or send that man Jim to say the word, to have her dragged out of her
Copperhead den at Robles Ranche and shut up in Fort Alcatraz this very
night!"
Still with the pink glowing in her rounding cheek, and eyes snapping
like splintered sapphires, she rose to her feet, with her pretty
shoulders lifted, her small hands and white teeth both tightly
clenched, and took a step towards him. Even in her attitude there was a
reminiscence of her willful childhood, although still blended with
the provincial actress whom he had seen on the stage only an hour ago.
Thoroughly alarmed at her threat, in his efforts to conceal his feelings
he was not above a weak retaliation. Stepping back, he affected to
regard her with a critical admiration that was only half simulated, and
said with a smile,--
"Very well done--but you have forgotten the flag."
She did not flinch. Rather accepting the sarcasm as a tribute to her
art, she went on with increasing exaggeration: "No, it is YOU who
have forgotten the flag--forgotten your country, your people, your
manhood--everything for that high-toned, double-dyed old spy and
traitress! For while you are standing here, your wife is gathering under
her roof at Robles a gang of spies and traitors like herself--secession
leaders and their bloated, drunken 'chivalry'! Yes, you may smile your
superior smile, but I tell you, Clarence Brant, that with all your
smartness and book learning you know no more of what goes on around you
than a child.
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