pitan's house faced the east. Just as day broke, and the light
streamed in at the open door, Ramona's eyes unclosed. Felipe and Aunt
Ri were both by her side. With a look of bewildered terror, she gazed at
them.

"Thar, thar, naow! Yer jest shet yer eyes 'n' go right off ter sleep
agin, honey," said Aunt Ri, composedly, laying her hand on Ramona's
eyelids, and compelling them down. "We air hyar, Feeleepy 'n' me, 'n'
we air goin' ter stay. I allow yer needn't be afeerd o' nothin'. Go ter
sleep, honey."

The eyelids quivered beneath Aunt Ri's fingers. Tears forced their way,
and rolled slowly down the cheeks. The lips trembled; the voice strove
to speak, but it was only like the ghost of a whisper, the faint
question that came,--"Felipe?"

"Yes, dear! I am here, too," breathed Felipe; "go to sleep. We will not
leave you!"

And again Ramona sank away into the merciful sleep which was saving her
life.

"Ther longer she kin sleep, ther better," said Aunt Ri, with a sigh,
deep-drawn like a groan. "I allow I dread ter see her reely come to.
'T'll be wus'n the fust; she'll hev ter live it all over again!"

But Aunt Ri did not know what forces of fortitude had been gathering
in Ramona's soul during these last bitter years. Out of her gentle
constancy had been woven the heroic fibre of which martyrs are made;
this, and her inextinguishable faith, had made her strong, as were
those of old, who "had trial of cruel mocking, wandering about, being
destitute, afflicted, tormented, wandered in deserts and in mountains,
and in dens and caves of the earth."

When she waked the second time, it was with a calm, almost beatific
smile that she gazed on Felipe, and whispered, "How did you find me,
dear Felipe?" It was rather by the motions of her lips than by any
sound that he knew the words. She had not yet strength enough to make an
audible sound. When they laid her baby on her breast, she smiled again,
and tried to embrace her, but was too weak. Pointing to the baby's eyes,
she whispered, gazing earnestly at Felipe, "Alessandro." A convulsion
passed over her face as she spoke the word, and the tears flowed.

Felipe could not speak. He glanced helplessly at Aunt Ri, who promptly
responded: "Naow, honey, don't yeow talk. 'Tain't good fur ye; 'n'
Feeleepy 'n' me, we air in a powerful hurry ter git yer strong 'n'
well, 'n' tote ye out er this--" Aunt Ri stopped. No substantive in her
vocabulary answered her need at that moment. "I al