“Was it of any one in particular?”
“Of Mr. Stephens, auntie. How gentle he was, and how brave! To think of him fixing up every little thing for us, and trying to pull his jacket over his poor roped-up hands, with those murderers waiting all round him. He’s my saint and hero from now ever after.”
“Well, he’s out of his troubles anyhow,” said Miss Adams, with that bluntness which the years bring with them.
“Then I wish I was also.”
“I don’t see how that would help him.”
“Well, I think he might feel less lonesome,” said Sadie, and drooped her saucy little chin upon her breast.
The four had been riding in silence for some little time, when the Colonel clapped his hand to his brow with a gesture of dismay.
“Good God!” he cried, “I am going off my head.”
Again and again they had perceived it during the night, but he had seemed quite rational since daybreak. They were shocked therefore at this sudden outbreak, and tried to calm him with soothing words.
