“No, no, Mrs. Burnham. Don’t say that. I was here and I’ve done what I could. That’s all. It’s so good to know you are getting better!” answered Carlota, who was far less rosy and gay than when, so many weeks before, she had reached Camp Burnham, where they still remained.
On the morning after her arrival, Carlota had been awakened by a cry of alarm, and, half-aroused, had seen Mrs. Burnham unsteadily leaning against the wagon-end. A second later, the cry of pain was repeated and she saw the woman fall; and from that moment until now life had seemed a terrible dream.
The frail Letitia, upon whose cheerful self-sacrifice rested everybody’s comfort, had suddenly collapsed. An old weakness of the heart had returned to strike her down at a moment, when it seemed to her, she could less be spared than ever before.
“Well, I’ve had to lie still. There was no help for it; and again, my dear, I say that I believe God sent you to me when you came. Inexperienced child though you were, your devotion and care have saved me.”
A bed of pine boughs within a tent may not be the most luxurious of couches, yet had Mrs. Burnham chosen from all the world she could scarcely have selected a spot more conducive to recovery from such an illness. She now continued, looking around upon all her dear ones, clustered before the opening of her tent:
“You have done your helpful share, each one. But I am really much, much stronger, and I want Carlota to go off with her brother for a long, delightful day by themselves. Her berry-brown face is getting bleached by staying indoors—even in a canvas indoors—till it almost matches her hair. That won’t do. Besides, since we haven’t found here what we sought, we must move on again very soon. This lovely spot has grown to be like home to me but—there are others just as fair.”
“Oh! maybe Mr. Burnham will find his ‘lucky stone’ right here,” said Carlota, radiant at thought of a long quiet day “by themselves” with her precious brother. She knew, too, by the way he looked at her, lately, that he had something especial to say to her and only waited an opportunity to say it. So, taking a little luncheon with her and promising that they would surely come back before dark, the girl set off to find her brother, lounging on the rocks below.
“Oh! how nice it is to be alone, quite by our two selves! They are so good to us, and yet—I—Carlos, do you ever think of Refugio now?”
“Think of it? All the time, almost. I’m as glad as you to come by ourselves, for we must have a talk. First—which way shall we go?”
“Down the canyon to the bend in it and that other terrible rocky fork of it. I saw something. Oh! I saw something!” said Carlota, mysteriously.