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"Well, say; maybe you'll tell us who this is we're about to meet up with."

"I see."

Turn away thine eyes, maiden passing fair. O maiden passing fair, turn away thine eyes!

"One too modest," I murmured, "to know her own portrait." I clutched the braid emotionally and let it go intending to retake it; but she dropped it behind her and said I was too imaginative to be safe.

"And the one following, almost at his side?"

"Oh!--don't you wish you knew! Why, to myself, for instance. Come! duty calls."

"You sa-ay 'Whah is it?'--ow batt'ry"--he champed noisily--"I dunno. Does you? Whah is it?"

I sat by the window, capped, booted, belted, my bridle in one hand, revolver in the other. In all the house, now, there was no sound, and without there was a stillness only more vast. I could not tell whether certain sensations in my ear were given by insects in the grass and trees or merely by my overwrought nerves and tired neck. The moon sailed high, the air was at last comfortably cool, my horse stood and slept. I thought it must be half-past two.

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