"Yes—I am very tired," she replied.
He rose, and, after throwing more wood on to the fire, he turned to her.
"I'll have to fix you up a bed in the cave the best way I can. I can get fern-leaves and long, cypress-haired moss in the woods. That'll make capital stuffing, and with a few plantain-leaves you'll have a mattress fit for a queen. It'll do for to-night. To-morrow we'll make you more comfortable."
Before she could murmur her gratitude he had hurried away in the direction of the woods.
Left alone, her nervousness increased. She wondered what he would do for a bed, if he would insist on sharing the shelter of the cave with her, or if he would prefer to sleep outside under the stars. She felt singularly apprehensive. A panicky feeling seized her. How could she spend all the lonely hours of the night in the terrifying darkness—alone with that man? She felt nervous and uneasy, as if some new peril threatened her. Certainly, she would not be able to close an eye. A night of mental torture was before her.
CHAPTER XI.
Soon Armitage returned, his arms filled with a great load of fern-leaves and grass.
Grace followed him into the gloomy cave, the interior of which was now quite dark. Laying his burden down, he prepared to arrange her couch.
"How would you like to lie?" he asked.