It was Clo-ke-ta.
As she moved slowly away, I rose to my feet and followed her.
I seemed to be in a dream.
All I remember is, that the sleeper near me, on my right, stirred. My movement had startled him. He, nevertheless, did not wake.
Pausing for an instant where the horses were picketed, I once more heard her voice.
Although in a whisper, it was riper, fuller and more womanly than when it last sounded on my ears.
"Let my brother take his horse."
"Why should he do so?" I asked in a tone no louder than hers had been.
"My brother must have many miles between himself and this place, before the dawn."