Dismounted, breathless, staggering, with her arms flung upward, and her
face bloodless with fear, Cigarette appeared upon the ridge of rising
ground.

The cry of command pealed out upon the silence in the voice that the
Army of Africa loved as the voice of their Little One. And the cry came
too late; the volley was fired, the crash of sound thrilled across the
words that bade them pause, the heavy smoke rolled out upon the air; the
death that was doomed was dealt.

But beyond the smoke-cloud he staggered slightly, and then stood erect
still, almost unharmed, grazed only by some few of the balls. The flash
of fire was not so fleet as the swiftness of her love; and on his breast
she threw herself, and flung her arms about him, and turned her head
backward with her old, dauntless, sunlit smile as the balls pierced her
bosom, and broke her limbs, and were turned away by the shield of warm
young life from him.

Her arms were gliding from about his neck, and her shot limbs were
sinking to the earth as he caught her up where she dropped to his feet.

"O God! my child! They have killed you!"

He suffered more, as the cry broke from him, than if the bullets had
brought him that death which he saw at one glance had stricken down
forever all the glory of her childhood, all the gladness of her youth.

She laughed--all the clear, imperious, arch laughter of her sunniest
hours unchanged.

"Chut! It is the powder and ball of France! That does not hurt. If it
was an Arbico's bullet now! But wait! Here is the Marshal's order.
He suspends your sentence; I have told him all. You are safe!--do you
hear?--you are safe! How he looks! Is he grieved to live? Mes Francais!
Tell him clearer than I can tell--here is the order. The General must
have it. No--not out of my hand till the General sees it. Fetch him,
some of you--fetch him to me."

"Great Heavens! You have given your life for mine!"

The words broke from him in an agony as he held her upward against his
heart, himself so blind, so stunned, with the sudden recall from death
to life, and with the sacrifice whereby life was thus brought to him,
that he could scarce see her face, scarce hear her voice, but only
dimly, incredulously, terribly knew, in some vague sense, that she was
dying, and dying thus for him.

She smiled up in his eyes, while even in that moment, when her life was
broken down like a wounded bird's, and the shots had pierced through
from her shoulder to her