At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 210: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

AT A GIRL’S MERCY. 199 as she would trust any of her brothers, and was al- lowed to enter the presence of the general, after a few words from the orderly and a glance at the eager, wistful face, under its crown of yellow curls, that was so like that of a child. How could they say hernay? And once inside the tent of the man who could save her father if he would, if he would set at liberty one of the greatest villains of the war, Nan forgot herself utterly, forgot the look she saw upon her friend’s face of utter doubt in her success, forgot all things that could take from her errand its success, and, advancing with the free grace of a child to the table where the general sat, she spoke to him in her grave voice that proved it were no child, but a woman with a heart brave in spite of its sadness, and involuntarily he smiled. She was such agrave little woman standing before him with her two white hands clasped, and her tender face flushed and paling under its yellow, tumbled curls, with the wistful wide blue eyes upon his ina pleading he could not find it in his heart to utterly withstand, and the sweet, low voice uttering unhesitatingly its - errand. But when she had finished, and was wait- ing, the light of her soul making her face very ten- der and strong and sweet, the smile was gone from his face, and he was as grave as she could be wait- ing for his decision. *“My child,” he said, kindly, no one could be other than kind to this brave, proud child-woman, ‘‘you do not know or you do not realize what you are asking me to do. The man for whom you plead is the greatest, or one of the greatest, scoundrels on the face of the earth. How could I, even to save your father’s life, give him his liberty? It would simply be setting loose to do more and greater harm a man who has already done more toward defeating us than you would believe should [ tell you. I would help you if I could, believe me. But I can- not.”’ . : She was for a moment speechless in her disap- pointment and ill success, but her proud old spirit came to bear her through, and her tender heart would not give up so readily to the stern refusal of Eomicbooks.co 3