ou to make a fire, I did not suppose you would be away
all night," remarked Garda, as he returned from one of these
expeditions, dragging another great load behind him.

"All night? Twenty minutes, perhaps."

"At least an hour."

He looked at his watch by the light of the blaze and found that she was
right; he had been at work an hour. As he had now collected a great heap
of branches for further supply, he stood still, watching his handiwork;
Garda was sitting, or rather half reclining, on his coat, her back
against a pine, her slippers extended towards the glow.

"You look sleepy," he said, smiling to see her drowsy eyes. "But I am
glad to add that you also look warm."

"Yes, I am extremely comfortable. But, as you say, I am sleepy; would
you mind it if I should really fall asleep?"

"The best thing you could do."

She put her head down upon her arm, her eyes closed; it was not long
before he could perceive that sleep had come. He took off his soft felt
hat, and, kneeling down, raised her head gently and placed it underneath
as a pillow. She woke and thanked him; but fell asleep again
immediately. He drew the little mantle she wore--it was hardly more than
a scarf--more closely round her shoulders, added to it the only thing he
had, his silk handkerchief. And then, coatless and hatless, he walked up
and down beside the fire and her sleeping figure, keeping watch and
listening for the distant sound of wheels. But it was too early to
listen, he knew that. Night had darkened fully down upon the barren, the
fire, no longer leaping, burned with a steady red glow; a warm breeze
stirred now and then in the pine-trees; but except that soft sound it
was very still. And the aromatic odors grew stronger.

CHAPTER XVII.

The next morning, about eight o'clock, the only covered carriage of
which Gracias could boast drove up to the door of East Angels. From it
descended (it really was a descent, for the carriage had three folding
steps) Evert Winthrop, then Garda, then Mrs. Carew, to meet, gathered in
the lower hall near the open door, Dr. Kirby and his mother, the Rev.
Middleton Moore, Madam Ruiz, Madam Giron, and, in the background, Pablo
and Raquel. Margaret was not there, nor Celestine; but Looth's head
peeped over the old carved railing at the top of the stairway, and
outside, gathered at the corner of the house, were Telano, Aunt
Dinah-Jim, Maum Jube, and Cyndy, furtively looking on. Dr. Kirby's face
was dark