The very
embers of the fires had turned black, showing only here and there a mere
spark; and the forms of the prone sleepers could hardly be distinguished
from the hard ground on which they rested, with their arms lying
beside them on the mats. Presently Mrs. Travers appeared quite close to
d'Alcacer, who rose instantly.
"Martin is asleep," said Mrs. Travers in a tone that seemed to have
borrowed something of the mystery and quietness of the night.
"All the world's asleep," observed d'Alcacer, so low that Mrs. Travers
barely caught the words, "Except you and me, and one other who has left
me to wander about in the night."
"Was he with you? Where has he gone?"
"Where it's darkest I should think," answered d'Alcacer, secretly. "It's
no use going to look for him; but if you keep perfectly still and hold
your breath you may presently hear his footsteps."
"What did he tell you?" breathed out Mrs. Travers.
"I didn't ask him anything. I only know that something has happened
which has robbed him of his power of thinking . . . Hadn't I better go
to the hut? Don Martin ought to have someone with him when he wakes up."
Mrs. Travers remained perfectly still and even now and then held her
breath with a vague fear of hearing those footsteps wandering in the
dark. D'Alcacer had disappeared.
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