"If they try any games on the women, I mean to shoot them all three with my own hand, and then we'll die with our minds easy." "Good man!" said Cochrane, and they rode on in silence.

None of them spoke much.

A curious, dreamy, irresponsible feeling crept over them.
It was as if they had all taken some narcotic drug--the merciful anodyne which Nature uses when a great crisis has fretted the nerves too far.
They thought of their friends and of their past lives in the comprehensive way in which one views that which is completed.

A subtle sweetness mingled with the sadness of their fate.

They were filled with the quiet serenity of despair.
"It's devilish pretty," said the Colonel, looking about him.