[Prisoners of Chance by Randall Parrish]@TWC D-Link book
Prisoners of Chance

CHAPTER XXVI
3/19

I am by nature cool in action, yet there are few who fret more grievously when held in leash, compelled to await in uncertainty the coming of the unknown.
All I could do that day was to pace the hard earthen floor, vainly endeavoring to quiet the wild throbbing of my heart with every hope I might conjure up, now and then approaching the unguarded entrance of the lodge to search anxiously for some ground of hope.

It was thus the long afternoon wore away, until the deepening shadows of sun-setting rested heavily along the western cliffs, and the workers in the fields began trooping through the village, their shouts of greeting shrill and discordant, while the grim priests found place before the draped entrance to their dread altar-house, with blazing fagots signalling their distant brethren on the dizzy summit.

It was then De Noyan finally returned and found me raging from wall to wall like one distracted.
It required but a glance to note the subtile change the afternoon had wrought in his personal appearance, yet at the time I did not greatly marvel at it.

The stains of battle and exposure, that had so decidedly disfigured him, had disappeared before the magic of new raiment, which had about it the color and cut of French fashion; so it was now a fair and prosperous gallant of the court, powdered of hair, waxen of moustache, who came jauntily forward with his greetings.
"What said I, Master Benteen ?" he questioned cheerily to my stare of surprise.

"Did I not boldly contend that this would yet prove a pleasant resting-place to relieve the tedium of a journey?
Can you gaze upon this gay attire, longer doubting the verity of my dreams?
But no happiness finds reflection in your face; 'tis gloomy as a day of rain.


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