s astir in her and
she pondered on the house they were to build, how they must arrange
something for a table, and maybe fashion armchairs of barrels and red
flannel. Finally, in a last voluptuous flight of ecstasy, she saw
herself riding into Sacramento with a sack of dust and abandoning
herself to an orgie of bartering.

One afternoon three men, two Mexicans and an Australian sailor from a
ship in San Francisco cove, stopped at the camp for food. The
Australian was a loquacious fellow, with faculties sharpened by
glimpses of life in many ports. He told them of the two emigrant
convoys he had just seen arrive in Sacramento, worn and wasted by the
last forced marches over the mountains. Susan, who had been busy over
her cooking, according him scant attention, at his description of the
trains, suddenly lifted intent eyes and leaned toward him:

"Did you see a man among them, a young man, tall and thin, with black
hair and beard?"

"All the men were tall and thin, or any ways thin," said the sailor,
laughing. "How tall was he?"

"Six feet," she replied, her face devoid of any answering smile, "with
high shoulders and walking with a stoop. He had a fine, handsome face,
and long black hair to his shoulders and gray eyes."

"Have you lost your sweetheart?" said the man, who did not know the
relations of the party.

"No," she said gravely, "my friend."

Courant explained:

"She's my wife. The man she's speaking of was a member of our company
that we lost on the desert. We thought Indians had got him and hoped
he'd get away and join with a later westbound train. His name was
David."

The sailor shook his head.

"Ain't seen no one answering to that name, nor to that description.
There wasn't a handsome-featured one in the lot, nor a David. But if
you're expecting him along, why don't you take her in and let her look
'em over? They told me at the Fort the trains was mostly all in or
ought to be. Any time now the snow on the summit will be too deep for
'em. If they get caught up there they can't be got out, so they're
coming over hot foot and are dumped down round Hock Farm. Not much to
see, but if you're looking for a friend it's worth trying."

That night Courant was again wakeful. Susan's face, as she had
questioned the sailor, floated before him on the darkness. With it
came the thought of the dead man. In the silence David called upon him
from the sepulcher beneath the rock, sent a message thro