"And why should you be so sure of all this and I but what I am?" says I, staring also into the fire.
"Mayhap because I am a woman with all a woman's instinct to know the evil from the good."
Hereupon I began telling her of my exploration and describing the wonders I had seen, as the fruit-trees and waterfall. Whereupon she grew eager to explore the island so soon as she might. In a while I arose, and drawing my knife turned where I knew was fern a-plenty.
"Where away?" she questioned, rising also.
"I must make you a bed."
"'Tis done, Martin, and yours also."
"Mine!" says I, staring. "How should you do all this?"
"With the old, rusty sword, Martin. Come and see!"
So she brought me to the cave, the moon flooding the place with its pale radiance, and I espied a goodly bed of fern very neatly contrived, in one corner.
"Bravely done!" says I.