They were very white,
and they were firm like those of a young woman. There were none of the
heavy blue veins across the back that betoken age.

The hands fascinated him. He stared at them, fairly pouring his gaze
upon them. They were beautiful, as the hands of a great lady should be
kept, and it was all the more wonderful then that the right should have
across the back of it a faint gray smudge, so tiny that only an eye like
his, and a concentrated gaze like his, could have seen it.

He took four swift steps forward, seized the white hand in his and held
it up.

"Madame," he said, and now his tone was as fierce as hers had ever been,
"where is the rifle?"

She made no attempt to release her hand, nor did she move at all, save to
lift her head. Then her eyes, hard, defiant and ruthless, looked into
his. But his look did not flinch from hers. He knew, and, knowing,
he meant to act.

"Madame," he repeated, "where is the rifle? It is useless for you to
deny."

"Have I denied?"

"No, but where is the rifle?"

He was wholly unconscious of it, but his surprise and excitement were so
great that his hand closed upon hers in a strong muscular contraction.
Thrills of pain shot through her body, but she did not move.

"The rifle! The rifle!" repeated Dick.

"Loose my hand, and I will give it to you."

His hand fell away and she walked to the end of the room where a rug,
too long, lay in a fold against the wall. She turned back the fold
and took from its hiding place a slender-barreled cap-and-ball rifle.
Without a word she handed it to Dick and he passed his hand over the
muzzle, which was still warm.

He looked at her, but she gave back his gaze unflinching.

"I could not believe it, were it not so," he said.

"But it is so. The bullets were not aimed well enough." Dick felt an
emotion that he did not wholly understand.

"Madame," he said, "I shall take the rifle, and again say good-by.
As before, I wish you well."

She resumed her seat in the chair and took up the knitting. But she
did not repeat her wish that Dick and all his men be shot before night.
He went out in silence, and gently closed the door behind him. In the
hall he met Sergeant Whitley and said:

"We needn't look any farther. I know now that the man has gone and we
shall not be fired upon again from this house."

The sergeant glanced at the rifle Dick carried and made no comment.
But when they were riding away, he said:

"And