Chapter 12
ECHO CLIFFSWHEN thought came clearly to him he halted irresolute. For
Mescal's sake he must not appear to have had any part in her
headlong flight, or any knowledge of it.
With stealthy footsteps he reached the cottonwoods, stole under
the gloomy shade, and felt his way to a point beyond the twinkling
lights. Then, peering through the gloom until assured he was safe
from observation, and taking the dark side of the house, he gained
the hall, and his room. He threw himself on his bed, and endeavored
to compose himself, to quiet his vibrating nerves, to still the
triumphant bell-beat of his heart. For a while all his being swung
to the palpitating consciousness of joy—Mescal had taken her
freedom. She had escaped the swoop of the hawk.
While Hare lay there, trying to
