this trigger, and fall dead at your feet." And Edith raised the pistol
and placed the muzzle to her own temple--her finger against the trigger.

The men stood still--the captain swore.

"H--l fire and flames! Do you intend to stand there all day, to hear the
wench declaim? Seize her, curse you! Wrench that weapon from her hand."

"Not so quick as I can pull the trigger!" said Edith--her eyes blazing
with the sense of having fate--the worst of fate in her own hands; it
was but a pressure of the finger, to be made quick as lightning, and she
was beyond their power! Her finger was on the trigger--the muzzle of the
pistol, a cold ring of steel, pressed her burning temple! She felt it
kindly--protective as a friend's kiss!

"Seize her! Seize her, curse you!" cried the brutal Thorg, "what care I
whether she pull the trigger or not? Before the blood cools in her body,
I will have had my satisfaction! Seize her, you infernal--"

"Captain, countermand your order! I beg, I entreat you, countermand your
order! You yourself will greatly regret having given it, when you are
calmer," said a young officer, riding hastily forward, and now, for the
first time, taking a part in the scene.

An honorable youth in a band of licensed military marauders.

"'Sdeath, sir! Don't interfere with me! Seize her, rascals!"

"One step more, and I pull the trigger!" said Edith.