" He drew
from his breast a case of steel links hung round his neck by a chain: it
held Cecil's gauntlet--stained and stiffened with his blood. That was
the treasure he would not resign when he lay on the ground, waiting for
the Russian lances. "You did not think that I should forget you, because
I never answered your letter?"
As had happened once before, a portion of his fortitude and self-command
seemed transfused into Cecil Tresilyan. She spoke quite steadily now.
"How could I misjudge your silence, when I begged you not to write? I
have been very miserable, thinking how angry you would be; and yet I
could not help what I did. But I never fancied you had forgotten me.
Forgetting is not so easy. Now tell me about yourself. I have heard of
that glorious charge. But those terrible wounds--how you must have
suffered!"
Out of the dim, glazing eyes flashed for one moment a gleam of soldierly
pride. "Yes, we rode straight, on the twenty-fifth--I among the rest. I
suppose I have suffered some pain, but that is all past and gone. I am
sensible of nothing but the great happiness of holding your little hand
once more.
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