She was sitting up on her bed of twigs now, leaning[30] toward him, her eyes alight with a strange excitement, her body leaning toward his own, as she listened. The firelight danced upon her hair and lit her face with a weird, wild beauty. She was very near him at that moment—spiritually—physically. In a gush of pity he put his hand over hers and held it tightly in his own, his voice reassuring her gently.

[30]

“No harm can come to you here, child. Don’t you understand? There are no voices—but yours and mine. See! The woods are filled with moonlight. It is as bright as day.”

She had put one arm before her eyes as though by physical effort to obliterate the fancies that possessed her. Her hand was ice-cold and her fingers unconsciously groped in his, seeking strength in his warm clasp. With an effort she raised her head and looked more calmly into the shadows.

“No, there are no voices now,” she repeated. “I am—foolish.” And then aware of his fingers still holding hers, she withdrew her hand abruptly and straightened her slender figure. “I—I’m all right, I think.”

He straightened slowly, and his matter of fact tone reassured her.

“I didn’t know you were really frightened or I shouldn’t have spoken so. I’m sorry.”

“But you heard,” she persisted.

Gallatin took up his pipe and put it in his mouth before he replied.

“The wilderness is no place for nerves—or imaginations. It seems that you have the one and I the other. There were no sounds.”

“What did I hear then?”

“The stream and the leaves overhead. I’d rather prove it to you by daylight.”

[31]

[31]

“Will the day never come?”

“Oh, yes. I suppose so. It usually does.”

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