He was still bending low over her when her blue eyes unclosed on his.
"That is the second time I've tried to kill you," she whispered. "I thought it was Leverett. … I'd have died if I had killed you."
There was a silence.
"Lie very still," he said huskily. "I'll be back in a moment to rebandage your feet and make you comfortable for the night."
"I can't sleep," she repeated desolately. "Dad trusted his money to me and I've let Leverett rob me. How can I sleep?"
"I'll bring you something to make you sleep."
"I can't!"
"I promise you you will sleep. Lie still."
He rose, went away downstairs and out to the barn, where his campaign hat lay in the weed, drilled through by a bullet.
There was something else lying there in the weeds, — a flat, muddy, shoeless shape sprawling grotesquely in the foggy starlight.