Thus they breathed more freely now. Most of the tumult outside had been cut off from their hearing, by the retirement into the arcade. They paused, to plan their course.
At Stern the girl looked eagerly.
"Oh, oh, Allan--how horrible!" she whispered. "It was all my fault for having been so headstrong, for having insisted on a look at them! Forgive me!"
"S-h!" he cautioned again. "No matter about that. The main thing, now, is whether we attack or wait?"
"Attack? Now?"
"I don't think much of going up-stairs without that pail of water. We'll have a frightful time with thirst, to say nothing of not being able to make the Pulverite. Water we must have! If it weren't for your being here, I'd mighty soon wade into that bunch and see who wins! But--well, I haven't any right to endanger--"
Beatrice seized his hand and pulled him toward the doorway.
"Come on!" cried she. "If you and I aren't a match for them, we don't deserve to live, that's all. You know how I can shoot now! Come along!"
Her eyes gleamed with the light of battle, battle for liberty, for life; her cheeks glowed with the tides of generous blood that coursed beneath the skin. Never had Stern beheld her half so beautiful, so regal in that clinging, barbaric Bengal robe of black and yellow, caught at the throat with the clasp of raw gold.
A sudden impulse seized him, dominant, resistless. For a brief moment he detained her; he held her back; about her supple body his arm tightened.
She raised her face in wonder. He bent, a little, and on the brow he kissed her rapturously.
"Thank God for such a comrade and a--friend!" said he.