, and let me sleep."

"I will soon," said Ned; "but I don't see what there is to laugh at,
unless you feel jolly triumphant at getting all the best of the
expedition to yourself."

"I do," said Chris. "It was lovely being shot at with arrows and
tumbling down those precipices, better than any dream I ever had."

The boy's face looked mirthful, and Ned did not notice the bitterly
sarcastic ring there was in his comrade's words, as he said in an
envious tone--

"Well, it's all very fine, but I shall tell father that it isn't fair
for you to be made the favourite, and I don't think you've behaved
well."

"Don't you?" said Chris, sobering down. "I'm very sorry; but I've done
the best I could."

"Perhaps so, but I don't think that if I had lost my pony I could have
lain there and grinned as you've done. Poor brute! I almost believe I
would rather have died myself."

Chris was perfectly sobered now, and as Ned walked away he lay there in
the cool shadow with a peculiar look in his weary eyes, while, far from
desiring sleep, he could only lie hot-headed and in feverish pain,
thinking of the gallant way in which the pony had galloped to save his
life.

It was long before he slept, and when he did it was to go through most
of the events of the past night and morning again in feverish dreams.
But at last he slept too heavily for dreams. Nature required rest, and
the boy lay breathing in the cool mountain air and sleeping as if he
meant to crowd the rest of two nights into one.

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.

A WELCOME STRONGER.

"Chris!"

"Don't!"

"Chris!" in a louder tone.

"Get out!" very irritably, and the speaker turned sharply over with his
face to the stones and his back to the bright sunshine that came through
the old window-opening.

"Are you going to sleep here for ever?"

A grunt, accompanied by the kicking out of one leg, which would have
taken effect if Ned had not hopped over it.

"I say, are you going to sleep for a week?"

"No! And I'm not asleep now," said Chris, with his eyelids squeezed
very close together; "but I tell you what, if you don't be off and leave
me alone I'll get up and punch your stupid old head."

"You daren't.--I should like to see you!"

"You soon will, and so I tell you. Be off, or I'll empty the wash-hand
jug over you."

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Ned. "Where is it?"

"Oh, bother! Be off!"

"Shan't! Do you know it's to-morrow morning?"

"No, I don't, Paddy Bu