You must not tell him that he is your brother,
and you must not use my name."
"But why?"
"Why? Because if his father learns of it he will kill us both."
"I'm sorry, but I don't believe that."
"Believe it!" Again the harsh voice was edged in steel. "By the god,
girl, haven't you been listening? Don't you know yet what kind of man
he is?"
"But to kill two women without pretext? Even a Governor---"
"Oh, he would find a pretext. Harboring a fugitive, spying..... Witch
craft."
Mary was silent. And though she reproached herself for it, her one
desire in that moment was to get as far away from the hate-filled old
woman as possible. She longed to escape from the smouldering darkness
of that place, to find some quiet hillside where she could think it
all through, and decide what must be done. What must be done..... But
at the same time she felt the need, far stronger than she cared to
admit, for some strong and reassuring male presence.
At that moment she heard hoofbeats outside the door. Not waiting to
ask, or consider whether it was right or wrong, she rose from her
place and went to the door.
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