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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Love under Fire"

My heart ached for the girl, and I longed to get my hands on
that cur of a Le Gaire, yet might venture to approach neither. It was a
maddening situation, but I could only stand there in the dark, gripping
the rail, unable to decide my duty. Perhaps she did love me--in spite of
that vigorous denial, perhaps she did--and the very possibility made the
blood surge hot through my veins. Could I help her in any way? Whatever
her feeling toward me might be, there remained no question as to her
growing dislike for Le Gaire. Not fear, but a peculiar sense of honor
alone, held her to her pledge. And could I remain still, and permit her
to be thus ruthlessly sacrificed? Would Major Hardy permit it if he
knew?--if the entire situation was explained to him? Le Gaire never
would tell him the truth, but would laugh off the whole affair as a mere
lovers' quarrel. Could I venture to thrust myself in? If I did, would it
be of any use? It would cost me my liberty, and the liberty of my men;
probably I should not be believed. And would she ever forgive me for
listening? I struggled with the temptation--swayed by duty and by
love--until my heart throbbed in bewilderment. Then it was too late.
Fate, tired of hesitancy, took the cards out of my hands.
Billie had been sitting, her head bowed on the table, the light above
glistening on her hair.


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