han any other kind of
conversation. It fascinated Hannay, and time rolled on without her
noticing it. The night was so beautiful, so still, so placid, and it
felt so comfortable outside on this terrace, whereon the moon shone so
brightly, that Hannay sat and sat, listened and talked, until she had
forgotten the young folk at home.

Suddenly a dark shadow covered the roof; the change was so abrupt that
everybody looked around. What a moment ago was plunged in the silvery
bath of the moon's rays was now wrapped in transparent darkness. But the
valley below and the slope in front were as softly radiant as before.
The moon had disappeared behind one of the cliffs, and the shadow of the
rocks was now cast over the houses of the Eagle. It reminded the talkers
that it was late, and it also reminded Hannay of her visitor. She
clambered hurriedly off and hastened home. Again she looked through the
circular vent. It was dark inside, and still. After listening a while
she distinguished regular breathings. It was easy to recognize them as
those of Mitsha, who was soundly, peacefully asleep. Hannay, as soon as
she reached the floor of the apartment, called out,--

"Sa uishe!" No reply.

"Sa uishe!" No answer.

She groped about in the dark until her hands touched the sleeping form.
She pulled the girl's dress and shook her by the arm until she sighed
and moved, and then asked,--

"Sa uishe, has your father come?"

"No," murmured the still dreaming child.

"Where is Okoya?"

"He has left."

"Will he come again?"

"Oh, yes," breathed Mitsha softly; then she turned over, sighed, and
spoke no more.

Hannay was happy. The boy would return! That was all she cared for. She
really liked him, for he was so candid, so good, and so simple-minded.
With such a son-in-law much was possible, she thought. Okoya could
certainly be moulded to become a very useful tool to her as well as to
Tyope. The woman felt elated over the results of the evening; she felt
sure that notwithstanding one egregious mistake, of which of course she
would be careful not to speak, her husband would be pleased with her
management of affairs. It was long after midnight when that husband
returned to the roof of his wife, and Hannay was already fast asleep.

Okoya had gone long before Hannay thought of returning. He went home
happy, and satisfied that Mitsha henceforth belonged to him. And yet
after all there was a cloud on his mind,--not a very threatening one