was well, quite well again now.

"All this time her eyes seemed to be telling me another story; but I
said nothing; she was obviously too excited already. I did my best to
soothe her, and I succeeded. She told me she felt quite well once more
before we started. No, she had rather, much rather go on to Paris, as I
had promised her she should. She should sleep all the way, if no one
came into the carriage to disturb her. No one could come in? Then
nothing could be better.

"And so it was that she and I started that night by the Paris mail.

"I made her up a bed of rugs and wraps upon the cushions; but she had
rather rest her head upon my shoulder, she said, and feel my arm about
her; nothing could hurt her then. Ah, strange how she harped on that.

"She lay there, then, as she loved best--with her head resting on my
shoulder, not sleeping much or soundly; uneasily, with sudden waking
starts, and with glances round her; till I would speak to her. And then
she would look up into my face and smile; and so drop into that uneasy
sleep again. And I would think she was over-tired, that was all; and
reproach myself with having let her come on. And three or four hours
passed like this; and then we had got as far as Dijon.

"But the child was fairly worn out now; and she offered no opposition
when I asked her to let me pillow her head on something softer than my
shoulder. So I folded, a great thick shawl she was too well cloaked to
need, and she made that her pillow.

"We were rushing full swing through the wild, dark night, when she
lifted up her face and bade me kiss her and bid her sleep well. And I
put my arm round her, and kissed the child's loving lips--for the last
time while she lived. Then I flung myself on the seat opposite her; and,
watching her till she slept soundly and peacefully, slept at last myself
also. I had drawn the blind across the lamp in the roof, and the light
in the carriage was very dim.

"How long I slept I don't know; it couldn't have been more than an hour
and a half, because the express was slackening speed for its first halt
beyond Dijon. I had slept heavily I knew; but I woke with a sudden,
sharp sense of danger that made me broad awake, and strung every nerve
in a moment. The sort of feeling you have when you wake on a prairie,
where you have come across 'Indian sign;' on outpost-duty, when your
_feldwebel_ plucks gently at your cloak. You know what I mean.

"I was on my feet at once. As I