It pulsed in her blood, and throbbed in her brain.

For the first time she realised what a marvellous force was the Call of the Patriot.

To listen and watch a man risking life and liberty in the cause of his country.

Her heart, and her mind and her soul went out to him.
When the soldiers marched on to the scene she was paralysed with fear.
When the order to fire was gives she wanted to ride into their midst and cry out to them to stop.

But she was unable to move hand or foot.
When the smoke had thinned and she saw the bodies lying motionless on the ground of men who a moment before had been full of life and strength: when was added to that the horror of the wounded crying out with pain, her first impulse was to fly from the sight of the carnage.
She mastered that moment of fear and plunged forward, calling to the groom to follow her.
What immediately followed has already been told.
The long, slow, tortuous journey home: the men slowly following with the ghastly mute-body on the rude litter, became a living memory to her for all the remainder of her life.
She glanced down every little while at the stone-white face and shuddered as she found herself wondering if eke would ever hear his voice again or see those great blue-grey eyes flash with his fierce courage and devotion.
Once only did the lips of the wounded man move.