Stay in the fiel’
Till the wah is ended.”
Evans got up and shut the door....
CHAPTER VII
A FAMISHED PILGRIM
Jane was waked usually by the hoarse crow of an audacious little rooster, who sent his challenge to the rising sun.
But on Thanksgiving morning, she found herself sitting up in bed in the deep darkness—slim and white and shivering—oppressed by some phantom of the night.
She came to it gradually. The strange events of yesterday. Evans. Her own share in his future.
Her room was icy. She climbed out of bed, and closed the windows, lighted the lamp on her little table, wrapped herself in a warm robe, and sat up among her pillows, to think the thing out.