Rita curled herself thankfully in Captain Jack's
hammock, after trying in vain to persuade him that he was an invalid,
and ought to take it himself. After some rummaging in a hole in the rock
which served him for cupboard and wardrobe, Delmonte brought her a small
pillow in a somewhat weather-beaten cover. "I wish I had a better one,"
he said. "This has been out in the rain a good deal, and I'm afraid it
smells of smoke, but it's a great pillow for sleeping on."

"Oh, thank you!" said Rita. "It is very comfortable indeed. How good you
are to me, Captain Delmonte. And whatever you may say, it is a great
shame for me to take your own hammock. If there were only another--"

"Oh, please don't!" said Jack. "It's really--you must not talk so, Miss
Montfort. As if there was anything I wouldn't do--why, this hammock will
never be the same again. I--I mean--oh, you know what I mean, and I
never could make pretty speeches. But--it is a pleasure, and--an honour,
to have you here; and you can't think how much it means to me. Good
night! I mean--sleep well."

He added a few words of a German song relative to the desirability of a
certain lovely angel's slumbering sweetly. Rita did not understand
German, but the tone of Delmonte's voice was in no particular language,
and, tired as she was, it was some time before she went to sleep.

It was late afternoon when they took the road again. Before starting
they held a council, seated together beneath the great tree, under whose
shade Rita had slept peacefully for several hours. Jim Montfort was the
first speaker.

"I take it," he said, "we'd better, each one of us, say what we mean to
do. Then the sky will be clear, and we can fit in or shake apart, as
seems best in each case. We all ride together to Pine del Rio, as
Captain Delmonte is so friendly as to ride with us. After that--I'll
begin with you, ma'am." He addressed, the widow respectfully. "How can I
best serve you? I am going to see my cousin safe off, and you must call
upon me for any service I can possibly render you."

"She will stay with me!" cried Rita. "Dear Marm Prudence, you will stay
with me, will you not?"

Marm Prudence shook her head, though with a look of infinite kindliness.
"Thank you, dear," she said; "it's like you to say it, but I'm going
home to Greenvale, Vermont. I've a sister living there yet. I'll go back
to my own folks at last, and lay my bones alongside o' mother's. I'll
never forgit you, though, Mi