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Page 22
And this girl! Where was she going? What was to become of her? Out in the
world where he came from, were they ever to reach it, she would be
nothing. Her station in life was beneath his so far that the only
recognition she could have would be one which would degrade her. This
solitary journey they were taking, how the world would lift up its hands
in horror at it! A girl without a chaperon! She was impossible! And yet it
all seemed right and good, and the girl was evidently recognized by the
angels; else how had she escaped from degradation thus far?
Ah! How did he know she had? But he smiled at that. No one could look into
that pure, sweet face, and doubt that she was as good as she was
beautiful. If it was not so, he hoped he would never find it out. She
seemed to him a woman yet unspoiled, and he shrank from the thought of
what the world might do for her--the world and its cultivation, which
would not be for her, because she was friendless and without money or
home. The world would have nothing but toil to give her, with a meagre
living.
Where was she going, and what was she proposing to do? Must he not try to
help her in some way? Did not the fact that she had saved his life demand
so much from him? If he had not found her, he must surely have starved
before he got out of this wild place. Even yet starvation was not an
impossibility; for they had not reached any signs of habitation yet, and
there was but one more portion of corn-meal and a little coffee left. They
had but two matches now, and there had been no more flights of birds, nor
brooks with fishes.
In fact, the man found a great deal to worry about as he lay there, too
weary with the unaccustomed exercise and experiences to sleep.
He reflected that the girl had told him very little, after all, about her
plans. He must ask her. He wished he knew more of her family. If he were
only older and she younger, or if he had the right kind of a woman friend
to whom he might take her, or send her! How horrible that that scoundrel
was after her! Such men were not men, but beasts, and should be shot down.
Far off in the distance, it might have been in the air or in his
imagination, there sometimes floated a sound as of faint voices or shouts;
but they came and went, and he listened, and by and by heard no more. The
horses breathed heavily behind their sage-brush stable, and the sun rose
higher and hotter. At last sleep came, troubled, fitful, but sleep,
oblivion. This time there was no lady in an automobile.
It was high noon when he awoke, for the sun had reached around the
sage-brush, and was pouring full into his face. He was very uncomfortable,
and moreover an uneasy sense of something wrong pervaded his mind. Had he
or had he not, heard a strange, low, sibilant, writhing sound just as he
came to consciousness? Why did he feel that something, some one, had
passed him but a moment before?
He rubbed his eyes open, and fanned himself with his hat. There was not a
sound to be heard save a distant hawk in the heavens, and the breathing of
the horses. He stepped over, and made sure that they were all right, and
then came back. Was the girl still sleeping? Should he call her? But what
should he call her? She had no name to him as yet. He could not say, "My
dear madam" in the wilderness, nor yet "mademoiselle."
Perhaps it was she who had passed him. Perhaps she was looking about for
water, or for fire-wood. He cast his eyes about, but the thick growth of
sage-brush everywhere prevented his seeing much. He stepped to the right
and then to the left of the little enclosure where she had gone to sleep,
but there was no sign of life.
At last the sense of uneasiness grew upon him until he spoke.
"Are you awake yet?" he ventured; but the words somehow stuck in his
throat, and would not sound out clearly. He ventured the question again,
but it seemed to go no further than the gray-green foliage in front of
him. Did he catch an alert movement, the sound of attention, alarm? Had he
perhaps frightened her?
His flesh grew creepy, and he was angry with himself that he stood here
actually trembling and for no reason. He felt that there was danger in the
air. What could it mean? He had never been a believer in premonitions or
superstitions of any kind. But the thought came to him that perhaps that
evil man had come softly while he slept, and had stolen the girl away.
Then all at once a horror seized him, and he made up his mind to end this
suspense and venture in to see whether she were safe.
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