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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"The Crusade of the Excelsior"


Suddenly, with a little outcry of terror, they turned, fled wildly past
them, and disappeared in the bushes.
Miss Keene and Hurlstone rose at the same moment, but the young girl,
taking a step forward, suddenly staggered, and was obliged to clasp one
of the arms of the cross to keep herself from falling. Hurlstone sprang
to her side.
"Are you ill?" he asked hurriedly. "You are quite white. What is the
matter?"
A smile crossed her colorless face.
"I am certainly very giddy; everything seems to tremble."
"Perhaps it is the flowers," he said anxiously. "Their heavy perfume in
this close air affects you. Throw them away, for Heaven's sake!"
But she clutched them tighter to her heart as she leaned for a moment,
pale yet smiling, against the cross.
"No, no!" she said earnestly; "it was not that. But the children were
frightened, and their alarm terrified me. There, it is over now."
She let him help her to her seat again as he glanced hurriedly around
him. It must have been sympathy with her, for he was conscious of a
slight vertigo himself. The air was very close and still. Even the
pleasant murmur of the waves had ceased.
"How very low the tide is!" said Eleanor Keene, resting her elbow on
her knees and her round chin upon her hand.


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