tree, where he stood listening to
the low, soft, musical murmur of the fall. And as he pictured the
clear, bright, foaming water flashing back the sun's rays, and in
imagination saw the shadowy forms of the trout darting here and there,
he took a step or two outward, but checked himself directly and turned
back to where he could command the door of the hut, for a feeling of
doubt crossed his mind as to what might happen if he went away; and
before long he stole back to the side of the rough pallet, where he
found Punch sleeping heavily, feeling, as he seated himself upon a rough
stool, that he could do nothing more but wait and watch. But it was
with a feeling of hope, for there was something to look forward to in
the coming of the peasant-girl.

"And that can't be for hours yet," thought the lad; and then his mind
drifted off to England, and the various changes of his life, and the
causes of his being there. And then, as he listened to the soft hum of
insect-life that floated through the open door, his eyelids grew heavy
as if he had caught the drowsy infection from his companion. Weak as he
was from light feeding, he too dropped asleep, so that the long, weary
time that he had been wondering how he should be able to pass was but as
a minute, for the sun was setting when he next unclosed his eyes, to
meet the mirthful gaze of Punch, who burst into a feeble laugh as he
exclaimed, "Why, you have been asleep!"

CHAPTER TWELVE.

A RUSTLE AMONG THE TREES.

"Asleep!" cried Pen, starting up and hurrying to the door.

"Yes; I have been watching ever so long. I woke up hours ago, all in a
fright, thinking that gal had come back; and I seemed to see her come in
at the door and look round, and then go again."

"Ah, you saw her!" said Pen, looking sharply to right and left as if in
expectation of some trace of her coming.

"No," said Punch, "it's no use to look. I have done that lots of times.
Hurt my shoulder, too, screwing myself round. She ain't been and left
nothing."

"But you saw her?" cried Pen.

"Well," said Punch, in a hesitating way, "I did and I didn't, like as
you may say. She seemed to come; not as I saw her at first--I only felt
her, like. It was the same as I seemed to see things when I have been
off my head a bit."

"Yes," said Pen, "I understand."

"Do you?" said Punch dreamily. "Well, I don't. I didn't see her, only
it was like a shadow going out of the door; but I feel as sure as sur