The lonely
expanse of swamp and metallic water, of grass-flats and tangled wilds,
loomed indistinctly out of the half light in sinister skeleton.
Keela glanced with furtive compassion at the haggard face of the rider
behind her. Since midnight he had ridden in utter silence, growing
whiter it seemed as the night waned.
"Another hour!" said Keela in her soft, clear voice. "Be of courage.
When the sun rises there behind the cypress, we shall be at our
journey's end."
"I--I am all right," stammered Carl courageously, but he bit his lips
until they bled, and swayed so violently in the saddle that Keela slid
to the ground in alarm.
"Put your arms about my shoulders--so!" she commanded imperiously.
"You will fall! Philip surely could not know how ill you are. Can you
get down?"
With an effort Carl dismounted and fell forward on his knees.
"You must sleep for a while," said Keela. "I will build a fire. We
can breakfast here and rest as long as you like." She took a blanket
from his saddle and spread it on the ground.
Carl crept on hands and knees to the Indian blanket and lay very still.
A drowsiness numbed his senses. When he awoke after a brief interval
of restless slumber, it was not yet daylight, though the sky in the
east was softly streaked with color.
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