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Lynde, Francis, 1856-1930

"The Master of Appleby A Novel Tale Concerning Itself in Part with the Great Struggle in the Two Carolinas; but Chiefly with the Adventures Therein of Two Gentlemen Who Loved One and the Same Lady"

But he
said no word of what had gone before.
"You may give me the lie, if you like, John Ireton; I shall not strike
you." He said it slowly, but his face was gray with anger. Then he
added, hotly: "You know well that word was meant for me!"
At this--God forgive me!--my jealous wrath broke bounds and I cursed him
for a beardless coxcomb who must needs think he stood alone in the eye
of every woman he should meet. "She needs a man!" I raged, lost now to
every sense of decent justice, "a man, I say! And to whom would she send
if not to her--"
I choked upon the word. He had risen with me, and we stood face to face
in that grim earth-womb, snarling fiercely at each other across the
narrow firelit space; two men with every tie to knit us close together,
and yet--God save us all!--a pair of wild beasts strung up to the
killing pitch because, forsooth, we must needs front each other across a
deadline drawn by the finger of a woman!
God knows what would have come of all this had my dear lad been as
fierce a fool as I. 'Twas his good common sense that saved us both, I
think, for when the savage rival madness was at its height he turned
away, swearing we were the very pick and choice of a world of asses to
stand thus feeling for each other's throats when, mayhap, the lady
needed both of us.
This brought me to my senses at a gallop, as you would guess; to them
and to the lighting of the conscience fire within whereon to grill the
wicked heart that but now had thirsted for a brother's blood.


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