He
looked long at the sweet, gentle, unpainted face of this woman, and
drew his first deep breath of relief and hope when she smiled. She
moved quickly through the crowd of acrobats and riders, followed close
behind by the slim, wide-eyed girl in the long red cloak. An instant
later she was sitting beside him on the mattress, smiling with
friendly encouragement as she laid her hand upon his arm. The girl
stood at her knee. For the first time the fugitive noticed the face of
this slender girl--no, it was the eyes alone that he saw, for the face
was grossly covered with pigments.
"What has happened?" asked the tall woman gently. "Have you--have you
run away from home, my boy?"
"How long have I been here?" There was a suggestion of alarm in the
abrupt question.
His voice, querulous through excitement, was quite strong and musical.
The tone and his manner of addressing the questioner proved beyond
contradiction that he was no ordinary tramp, or show-follower, such as
they were in the habit of seeing in their travels. A dozen fine old
Virginia gentlemen, perhaps, one after another, had lived and died
before him; down that precious line of blood had come the strain that
makes for the finished thoroughbred--the real Virginia aristocrat.
Pages:
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40