During her flight her hair had fallen down, and it glimmered like soft sunlight around her face.
Something compelling flashed out of her eyes, an expression between a triumphant smile and a ray of irresistible beseechment.

It took Colonel Clark's breath when he turned and saw her standing there, and heard her words.
"This man saved Lieutenant Beverley's life," she presently added, getting better control of her voice, and sending into it a thrilling timbre; "you shall not harm him--you must not do it!" Beverley was astounded when he saw her, the thing was so unexpected, so daring, and done with such high, imperious force; still it was but a realization of what he had imagined she would be upon occasion.

He stood gazing at her, as did all the rest, while she faced Clark and the platoon of riflemen.

To hear his own name pass her quivering lips, in that tone and in that connection, seemed to him a consecration.
"Would you be more savage than your Indian prisoner ?" she went on, "less grateful than he for a life saved?
I did him a small, a very small, service once, and in memory of that he saved Lieutenant Beverley's life, because--because--" she faltered for a single breath, then added clearly and with magnetic sweetness--"because Lieutenant Beverley loved me, and because I loved him.

This Indian Long-Hair showed a gratitude that could overcome his strongest passion.