With a good-natured grin Stubbs submitted and threw his tired body on the turf, making a pillow of the bags of jewels. He slept as heartily as though snug in the bunk of a safe ship. But both the girl and her father refused to take Wilson’s advice and do likewise. Both insisted upon sharing his watch with him. The father sat on the other side of his daughter staring, as though still wondering, into the shadows of the silent wood kingdom about him. He spoke but little and seemed to be still trying to clear his thoughts.
At their backs rose the towering summits which still stood between them and the ocean; above those the stars which from the first had seemed to watch their 319 lives; before them the heavy, silent shadows which bade them be ever alert.
Wilson sat upright with his rifle over his knees. The girl nestled against his shoulder. All was well with the world.
CHAPTER XXVII
Dangerous Shadows
In the narration of what had befallen her while in the care of Sorez, Wilson came to have a new conception of the man. With the exception of the fact that Sorez had considered his own interest alone in bringing the girl down here, and that he had lured her on by what he knew to be a deliberate lie, Sorez had been as kind and as thoughtful of her as her own father could have been. After their imprisonment in Bogova and while in hiding from Wilson he had supplied the girl with the best of nurses and physicians. Furthermore, in order to make what recompense he could to her in case of an accident to him or in the event of the failure of their mission, he had, before leaving Bogova, made his will, bequeathing to her every cent of his real and personal property. The chief item of this was the house in Boston which he had purchased as a home for himself and niece, a few months before the latter’s death. In addition to this he had in the end made the supreme sacrifice––he had given his life.
Sitting there in the starlight she told Wilson these things, with a sob in her voice.