"Nothing that is not just and proper. He promised to deliver to us a man
who in time of profound peace took the lives of innocent men to escape
the punishment he deserved for breaking the law. He planned his mischief
on a large scale. It is not his fault if it failed, partially. Of
course you have heard of Dain Maroola. Your father secured him, I
understand. We know he escaped up this river. Perhaps you--"
"And he killed white men!" interrupted Nina.
"I regret to say they were white. Yes, two white men lost their lives
through that scoundrel's freak."
"Two only!" exclaimed Nina.
The officer looked at her in amazement.
"Why! why! You--" he stammered, confused.
"There might have been more," interrupted Nina. "And when you get
this--this scoundrel will you go?"
The lieutenant, still speechless, bowed his assent.
"Then I would get him for you if I had to seek him in a burning fire,"
she burst out with intense energy. "I hate the sight of your white
faces. I hate the sound of your gentle voices. That is the way you
speak to women, dropping sweet words before any pretty face. I have
heard your voices before. I hoped to live here without seeing any other
white face but this," she added in a gentler tone, touching lightly her
father's cheek.
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