Then a light flashed in her eyes, and as she closed them, drifting off to exhaustion again, she half saw a figure stooping towards her. Then she felt herself being carried, while a barking seemed to be all about her.
The next thing she knew was light forcing its brightness through her closed lids and a great warmth beating upon her.
She dragged her eyes open again. She was lying on a black bear skin rug before a roaring fire, and some one was kneeling beside her, tucking cushions beneath her head. She had a glimpse of a khaki sleeve and a lean brown wrist.
The warmth was delicious. She wanted to put her head back against those pillows and sleep forever but memory was rousing, too.
Sleepily, she mumbled, "What time is it?"
The khaki shirt sleeve had withdrawn from view and the answering voice came from a corner of the room.
"It's about two."
Two o'clock! The night gone—gone past redemption.
"Oh, Madre mia!" whispered Maria Angelina.
She struggled up on one elbow, her little face, scratched and stained, staring wildly out from the dark thicket of hair. "But where am I? Where is this place? Is it near the Lodge—near Wilderness Lodge?"