Forrest stopped and gave a short laugh. "Upon my word, I had entirely forgotten what the time was. No, you are quite right. There is no need for such excessive hurry. Mannering is safe enough for the present."
"At least, for the next eighteen hours," I observed, after glancing at my watch. "Meanwhile, your room has been kept ready for you."
"A little sleep will not come amiss," he answered, yawning; "though it seems almost a pity to go to bed on such a morning."
He was right. By this time dawn was breaking with a splendour I have never seen equalled before nor since. From east to west the sky was stained and flecked with crimson and gold, and our faces glowed ruddily in the reflected light. We both fell to silence, as with our faces to the east we watched the uprising of the sun; and, until the sky paled as the sun made its appearance above the line of the horizon, we did not stir.
Then Forrest drew a deep breath. "There's been the beauty of destruction in the sunrise," he remarked. "We shall have a storm before nightfall."
He followed me indoors, and, leaving him at the door of his room, I went to my own. I got into my pyjamas, but I did not feel inclined to sleep for the sunbeams were glancing in at my window, and all about were the sound and movement of the awakening earth-creatures. I wheeled an easy chair to the window, and wrapping a blanket about me, took a novel I had been reading and strove to fix my attention on the pages. I could not do so. Whether it was the reflex action of the brain from the excitement of the evening or not, but the fact was I felt unaccountably depressed. I fought against the feeling as best I could. But I could not get out of my head the idea that some great danger was threatening, not myself, but the one dearest to me in the world. From my window I could see her home, and I drew the chair into a position where my eyes might rest upon the roof which sheltered her. There was some consolation in this, and I watched until I eventually fell into an uneasy slumber, from which I awakened unrefreshed and ill at ease.