He hurried below once more, and this time returned with a chafing-dish,
two bowls, and a couple of iron spoons which he had found in the
kitchen. In ten minutes the girl had prepared a lunch which to them was
the culmination of their happiness. Warmed, clothed, and fed, there
seemed nothing left for them.

When they had finished and had made everything tidy in the room, and
he had gone to the cellar and replenished the coal-hod, he told her
something of his own life. For a little while she listened, but soon
the room became blurred to her and she sank farther and farther among
the heavy shadows and the old paintings on the wall. The rain beat
against the muffled windows drowsily. The fire warmed her brow like
some hypnotic hand. Then his voice ceased and she drew her feet
beneath her and slept in the chair, looking like a soft Persian
kitten.

CHAPTER III

_A Stranger Arrives_

It was almost two in the morning when Wilson heard the sound of wheels
in the street without, and conceived the fear that they had stopped
before the house. He found himself sitting rigidly upright in the room
which had grown chill, staring at the dark doorway. The fire had
burned low and the girl still slept in the shadows, her cheeks pressed
against her hands. He listened with suspended breath. For a moment
there was no other sound and so he regained his composure, concluding
it had been only an evil dream. Crossing to the next room, he drew a
blanket from the little bed and wrapped the sleeping girl about with
it so carefully that she did not awake. Then he gently poked up the
fire and put on more coal, taking each lump in his fingers so as to
make no noise.

Her face, even while she slept, seemed to lose but little of its
animation. The long lashes swept her flushed cheeks. The eyes, though
closed, still remained expressive. A smile fluttered about her mouth
as though her dreams were very pleasant. To Wilson, who neither had a
sister nor as a boy or man had been much among women, the sight of
this sleeping girl so near to him was particularly impressive. Her
utter trust and confidence in his protection stirred within him
another side of the man who had stood by the gate clutching his club
like a savage. She looked so warm and tender a thing that he felt his
heart growing big with a certain feeling of paternity. He knew at that
moment how the father must have felt when, with the warm little hand
within his own, he had strode dow