Yes," she answered, but her eyes fell before my eagerness; "you are
not one who has yet learned to lie, even to women. 'T is a relief to
know there are such men still in the world."

We had come to a full halt by this time.

"Do you have any idea where we may be?" she asked, peering anxiously
about, and perhaps glad to change the tone of our conversation. "I
cannot note a landmark of any kind. These sand-hills seem all alike."

"I believe we have kept to the southward, for we have merely drifted
with the storm; but I confess my sole guidance has been the direction
of the wind, as these sand-lanes are most confusing. If there were the
slightest shelter at hand, I should insist upon your waiting until the
rain was over."

"No, it is better to go on. I am now wet to the skin, and shall be
warmer moving than resting on this damp sand."

We must have been moving for an hour, scarcely speaking a word, for the
severe exertion required all our breath. The rain had ceased, and
stars began to glimmer amid the cloud-rifts overhead; but I knew now
that we were lost. She stopped suddenly, and sank down upon the sand.

"I am exhausted," she admitted, "and believe we are merely moving about
in a circle."

"Yes," I said, reluctantly; "we are wasting our strength to no purpose.
'T will be better to wait for daylight here."

It was a gloomy place, and the silence of those vast expanses of
desolate sand was overwhelming. It oppressed me strangely.

"Let me feel the touch of your hand," she said once. "It is so
desperately lonely. I have been on the wide prairie, at night and
alone; yet there is always some sound there upon which the mind may
rest. Here the stillness is like a weight."

Possibly I felt this depressing influence the more because of my long
forest training, where at least the moaning of limbs, fluttering of
leaves, or flitting of birds brings relief to the expectant senses;
while here all was absolute solitude, so profound that our breathing
itself was startling. The air above appeared empty and void; the earth
beneath, lifeless and dead. Although neither of us was cowardly of
heart, yet we instinctively drew closer together, and our eyes strained
anxiously over the black sand-ridges, now barely discernible through
the dense gloom. We tried to talk, but even that soon grew to be a
struggle, so heavily did the suspense rest upon our spirits, so
oppressed were we by imaginings of evil. I remember tell