acted because he
acted; he knew no other reason.

In the middle of the night Susannah woke up. The stars glimmered above
the trees; she was lying on a heap of autumn leaves wrapped in the
blanket. Sitting up, she remembered slowly the events of the preceding
day.

Her movement had caused another movement at some distance. The Danite,
sleeping on the alert like soldier or huntsman, was roused by the first
sound she made, and when she continued to sit up he came near in the
glimmering light. She saw his dark form where he tarried a few paces
away.

"You're all safe, ma'am. Can't you go on sleeping?"

A watch of the night often brings to recollection some duty forgotten
during the day. "Do you know where Elvira Halsey is?"

"The young lady with the brown eyes that I have sometimes seen you with,
ma'am?"

"Yes." Then Susannah added with the weak detail of a wretched mind, "She
isn't very young."

"Was she any relation to you, ma'am? Were you very affectionate with
her?"

Susannah explained the relationship.

The Danite thought, "If I tell her she's there she'll think it her duty
to trapse back all the way to find her; she's that sort." Therefore,
judging that a minor grief could not make much difference, he gave it as
his opinion that Elvira was dead. At this Susannah shed tears for the
first time, which eased his anxiety not a little.

Susannah did not know the Danite's name; it never occurred to her to ask
him any question about himself.

At dawn they started again upon their tramp. The man knew the country,
and when the sun was up he brought Susannah out of the forest to a
settler's farm. She was faint now for want of food, walking again, as
she had walked last night, with vacant eyes and dull mechanical tread.

The Danite made her sit down upon a stone near the house, and brought a
woman to her who carried bread and milk. Susannah ate and drank without
speaking.

"My! but she's tired," said the farmer's wife. "It's a cruel shame to
make her walk so far; you're not a good husband to her, I'm thinking."

Having satisfied her need, Susannah turned away dully without a word.
The settler's wife offered the remainder of the bread and milk to the
Danite, who regarded it with famished eyes.

"Where's your husband?" he asked.

"We've enough men about the place."

"Where is your husband?"

"He's away with the militia under Lucas."

"Then I'll not touch his food," said the Danite. With an oath he flung