," says she, snugging down, "here is wondrous soft bed and
fragrant."

"'Twill serve until I can contrive a better," quoth I, and coming
without the cave, stood looking down on her, while the night deepened
about us apace.

"And what of you, Martin?"

"I shall sleep here, beyond the fire."

"Do you think there be any wild beasts hereabouts?"

"God knoweth!" says I. "Howbeit you may sleep secure and fear nothing."

"I know that, O I know that!" says she gently.

"Do you lack for aught?"

"Only sleep, Martin."

"Why then, I'll set about making the fire." So I fell to gathering
twigs and driftwood, of which there was no lack, and taking out my
tinder-box (albeit the tinder was still damp) soon contrived to have
the fire crackling right merrily. This done and with store of fuel to
hand, I scooped me out a hollow in the warm sand and lying therein
found myself very well, the aches of my many bruises notwithstanding.
The night air struck chill through my damp garments, but now, stretched
in the comfort of the fire, there grew within me a great wonder at our
miraculous deliverance; and this led me to ponder upon our present
situation, cast thus destitute upon this lonely island where, devoid of
every comfort and necessity, we must needs live in barbarous fashion as
best we might until either Penfeather should come to our relief or we
be taken off by some chance vessel. And supposing (thinks I) that
neither chance befall and we doomed to drag out our days to their
miserable end? Here I must needs bethink me of all the woeful tales I
had heard of marooners or poor, shipwrecked mariners who, by reason of
wretchedness and hardship, had run mad or become baser than the brutes.
And now, I must needs take out and read Penfeather's crumpled letter,
and bethinking me how (in my wicked folly) I had cast overboard the
packet of instructions whereby we must at least have found all those
stores he made mention of, from cursing him I straightway fell to
bitter recriminations of my vain self.

"Are you asleep, Martin?"

"No!" Here I heard her sigh, and a rustle as she turned on her leafy
couch.

"O Martin, surely God hath had us in His care to bring us safe through
so many dangers, and methinks His gentle hand will be over us still."

"Have you no fear of what is to be?"

"None, Martin--not now. But had I found myself alone here--hurt and
helpless in the dark--and really alone, O methinks I should have died
indeed,