completely hid her companion from his sight, and indeed the
darkness would have made any recognition difficult. She was holding one
of Miss Nevil's hands. With the other she slightly raised her wounded
brother's head.

"No, brother," she replied. "She did not give me any letter for you. But
are you still thinking about Miss Nevil? You must love her very much!"

"Love her, Colomba!--But--but now she may despise me!"

At this point Miss Nevil made a struggle to withdraw her fingers. But
it was no easy matter to get Colomba to slacken her grasp. Small and
well-shaped though her hand was, it possessed a strength of which we
have already noticed certain proofs.

"Despise you!" cried Colomba. "After what you've done? No, indeed! She
praises you! Oh, Orso, I could tell you so many things about her!"

Lydia's hand was still struggling for its freedom, but Colomba kept
drawing it closer to Orso.

"But after all," said the wounded man, "why didn't she answer me? If she
had sent me a single line, I should have been happy."

By dint of pulling at Miss Nevil's hand, Colomba contrived at last to
put it into her brother's. Then, moving suddenly aside, she burst out
laughing.

"Orso," she cried, "mind you don't speak evil of Miss Lydia--she
understands Corsican quite well."

Miss Lydia took back her hand at once and stammered some unintelligible
words. Orso thought he must be dreaming.

"You here, Miss Nevil? Good heavens! how did you dare? Oh, how happy you
have made me!"

And raising himself painfully, he strove to get closer to her.

"I came with your sister," said Miss Lydia, "so that nobody might
suspect where she was going. And then I--I wanted to make sure for
myself. Alas! how uncomfortable you are here!"

Colomba had seated herself behind Orso. She raised him carefully so
that his head might rest on her lap. She put her arms round his neck and
signed to Miss Lydia to come near him.

"Closer! closer!" she said. "A sick man mustn't talk too loud." And when
Miss Lydia hesitated, she caught her hand and forced her to sit down
so close to Orso that her dress touched him, and her hand, still in
Colomba's grasp, lay on the wounded man's shoulder.

"Now he's very comfortable!" said Colomba cheerily. "Isn't it good to
lie out in the _maquis_ on such a lovely night? Eh, Orso?"

"How you must be suffering!" exclaimed Miss Lydia.

"My suffering is all gone now," said Orso, "and I should like to die
here!" And his rig