ve closed your eyes this night through. If you
won't take care of yourself, other people must do so for you. Presently
I am going to sling the hammock under the trees and you shall have a
right royal siesta."

His hand had prisoned hers as she stood over him arranging the plates
and dishes. A faint colour came into her face, and she made a movement
to withdraw it. The attempt, however, was a feeble one.

"I think we are a pair of very foolish people," she said, with a laugh
whose sadness almost conveyed the idea of a sob.

"Perhaps so," he rejoined, pressing the hand he held to his cheek a
moment, ere releasing it. "What would life be worth without its
foolishness?"

For a few moments neither spoke. Eanswyth was busying herself arranging
some of the things in the room, adjusting an ornament here, dusting one
there. Eustace ate his breakfast in silence, tried to, rather, for it
seemed to him at times as if he could not eat at all. The attempt
seemed to choke him. His thoughts, his feelings, were in a whirl. Here
were they two alone together, with the whole day before them, and yet
there seemed to have arisen something in the nature of a barrier between
them.

A barrier, however, which it would not be difficult to overthrow, his
unerring judgment told him; yet he fought hard with himself not to lose
his self-control. He noted the refined grace of every movement as she
busied herself about the room--the thoroughbred poise of the stately
head, the sheen of light upon the rich hair. All this ought to belong
to him--did belong to him. Yet he fought hard with himself, for he read
in that brave, beautiful face an appeal, mute but eloquent--an appeal to
him to spare her.

A rap at the door startled him--startled them both. What if it was some
neighbour who had ridden over to pay them a visit, thought Eustace with
dismay--some confounded bore who would be likely to remain the best part
of the day? But it was only old Josane, the cattle-herd. His master
had told him to look in presently and ask for some tobacco, which he had
been promised.

"I'll go round to the storeroom and get it for him," said Eanswyth.
"You go on with your breakfast, Eustace."

"No, I'll go. I've done anyhow. Besides, I want to speak to him."

Followed by the old Kafir, Eustace unlocked the storeroom--a dark, cool
chamber forming part of an outbuilding. The carcase of a sheep, freshly
killed that morning, dangled from a beam. Pi