y, masterfully. She
seemed to feel the implied protection, and yielded to it gratefully,
with the further breakdown of a sob. "There is no danger," he repeated
cheerfully. "Wolves are not good to look at, I know, but they wouldn't
have attacked you. The beast only scents some carrion on the plain,
and you probably frightened him more than he did you. Lean on me," he
continued as her step tottered; "you will be better in the coach."

"And you won't leave me alone again?" she said in hesitating terror.

"No!"

He supported her to the coach gravely, gently--her master and still more
his own for all that her beautiful loosened hair was against his cheek
and shoulder, its perfume in his nostrils, and the contour of her lithe
and perfect figure against his own. He helped her back into the coach,
with the aid of the cushions and shawl arranged a reclining couch for
her on the back seat, and then resumed his old place patiently. By
degrees the color came back to her face--as much of it as was not hidden
by her handkerchief.

Then a tremulous voice behind it began a half-smothered apology. "I
am SO ashamed, Mr. Boyle--I really could not help it! But it was so
sudden--and so horrible--I shouldn't have been afraid of it had it been
really an Indian with a scalping knife--instead of that beast! I don't
know why I did it--but I was alone--and seemed to be dead--and you were
dead too and they were coming to eat me! They do, you know--you said so
just now! Perhaps I was dreaming. I don't know what you must think of
me--I had no idea I was such a coward!"

But Boyle protested indignantly. He was sure if HE had been asleep
and had not known what wolves were before, he would have been equally
frightened. She must try to go to sleep again--he was sure she
could--and he would not stir from the coach until she waked, or her
friends came.

She grew quieter presently, and took away the handkerchief from a mouth
that smiled though it still quivered; then reaction began, and her tired
nerves brought her languor and finally repose. Boyle watched the shadows
thicken around her long lashes until they lay softly on the faint flush
that sleep was bringing to her cheek; her delicate lips parted, and her
quick breath at last came with the regularity of slumber.

So she slept, and he, sitting silently opposite her, dreamed--the old
dream that comes to most good men and true once in their lives. He
scarcely moved until the dawn lightened with op