This announcement was received with great applause. Then, paper and pen
having been requisitioned, every man there put down his name, pledging
himself to serve in the corps and also to do all he could to induce
desirable men to join it too.
Lamont had left them after his address, and was now examining the
defences of the place. As he stood in the gathering darkness it was
with a strange tingle of the pulses that he reflected upon the scene he
had just left. This popularity to which he had thus suddenly sprung was
not a little strange, in fact it was a little aweing. In what light
would Clare Vidal view it? And then, at the thought of Clare, he felt
more than devoutly grateful that he had been the means of saving her
from a horrible death--and with it there intruded for the first time
another thought. Had he thus saved her for himself?
Yes. The frozen horror with which he had received the announcement that
morning, that she was advancing deeper and deeper into certain peril,
and causing him to lose sight of his own fatigue and recent hardships,
to start off then and there to her aid, had opened his eyes; but--was it
for good or for ill?
"There you are at last, Mr Lamont," said Clare, as he entered the
living-room of the place. "We have been wondering what had become of
you."
She was alone. There was a something in her tone, even in her look,
which he had not noticed before--a sort of gravity, as though the old
fun and brightness had taken to itself wings.
"I've been going around seeing to things. Where's Mrs Fullerton?"
"Gone to bed. She's got a splitting headache, and seems to have got a
kind of frightened shock. Dick is with her now, but I'm going
directly."
"I'm sorry to hear that. It has been a trying enough day for any woman,
Heaven knows. But you, Miss Vidal. There isn't a man in the whole
outfit that isn't talking of your splendid pluck."
She smiled, rather wanly he thought, and shook her head.
"I wish they'd forget it then. I wish I could. Oh, Mr Lamont--I have
killed--men."
She uttered the words slowly, and in a tone of mingled horror and
sadness. This, then, accounted for the changed expression of her face.
"Strictly and in absolute self-defence. Not only in _self_-defence but
in defence of your helpless sister too. There is no room for one atom
of self-reproach in that," he went on, speaking rapidly, vehemently.
"Not only that, but your courage and readiness were important factors in
saving the situation until we arrived. Wyndham has been telling me all
about it."
She smiled, but it was a hollow sort of smile, and shook her head.
"It is good of you to try and comfort me. But do you mean it really?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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