OCR Text |
Show Page 84 discover what manner of creature went there, but fled the sound of furious squealing in my ears. Headlong I raced, tripping over the hem of my gown and spilling strawberries in my haste, my heart thudding so in my breast I heard its echo within my skull. I had just run through a small clearing and was again entering the woods when the figure of a savage appeared before me. I screamed as the man's wide-flung arms reached out to grab me. It is said we do strange things in times of danger and, for myself, I know this to be true. I had not the breath to scream again, but upon finding myself in the clutches of the savage, I promptly raised my arms to tidy my cap--which had come askew from my wild flight through the trees--and to tuck in any trailing wisps of hair. Though it frizzles about my head in damp weather, I thought witlessly, and can be a nuisance at times, I do not want to lose my hair. And if he can't see it, he won't want i t. Even as I tidied my hair my frightened mind noted that the yellow-painted, foul-smelling savage was dressed in the breeches and shirt of an Englishman. what white man did you murder for your dress, heathen? I thought silently. Then I noticed something familiar about his eyes. He spoke. "Mistress Douglas," he said. "It's John Clark." |