rgot Bram, and the Eskimos waiting outside the corral, and the
apparent hopelessness of their situation. HER FATHER! He wanted to
shout, or dance around the cabin with Celie in his arms. But the change
that he had seen come over her made him understand that he must keep
hold of himself. He dreaded to see another light come into those
glorious blue eyes that had looked at him with such a strange and
questioning earnestness a few moments before--the fire of suspicion,
perhaps even of fear if he went too far. He realized that he had
betrayed his joy when she had said that the man in the picture was her
father. She could not have missed that. And he was not sorry. For him.
there was an unspeakable thrill in the thought that to a woman, no
matter under what sun she is born, there is at least one emotion whose
understanding needs no words of speech. And as he had talked to her,
sublimely confident that she could not understand him, she had read the
betrayal in his face. He was sure of it. And so he talked about
cartridges. He talked, he told himself afterwards, like an excited
imbecile.

There were no more cartridges. Celie made him understand that. All they
possessed were the four that remained in the revolver. As a matter of
fact this discovery did not disturb him greatly. At close quarters he
would prefer a good club to the pop-gun. Such a club, in the event of a
rush attack by the Eskimos, was an important necessity, and he began
looking about the cabin to see what he could lay his hands on. He
thought of the sapling cross-pieces in Bram's bunk against the wall and
tore one out. It was four feet in length and as big around as his fist
at one end while at the other it tapered down so that he could grip it
easily with his hands.

"Now we're ready for them," he said, testing the poise and swing of the
club as he stood in the center of the room. "Unless they burn us out
they'll never get through that door. I'm promising you that--s'elp me
God I am, Celie!"

As she looked at him a flush burned in her cheeks. He was eager to
fight--it seemed to her that he was almost hoping for the attack at the
door. It made her splendidly unafraid, and suddenly she laughed
softly--a nervous, unexpected little laugh which she could not hold
back, and he turned quickly to catch the warm glow in her eyes.
Something went up into his throat as she stood there looking at him
like that. He had never seen any one quite so beautiful. He dropped his