toward us across the ridges of sand and revealed the upturned face.




CHAPTER VIII

TWO MEN AND A MAID

The emotion I felt was new and strange to me; for though I had known
little of young women, yet as I looked upon her in that dim light of
dawn I found myself wondering if I already loved this strange girl.
Fair as her face certainly was, its beauty rendered even more striking
by the pallor of her late exposure and the blackness of her dishevelled
hair, it was her frankness and confidence which most appealed to me.
She had held all my thoughts through the long hours of watchfulness as
I sat there quietly, feeling the rise and fall of her regular
breathing, and thrilled by the unconscious caress of stray tresses as
they were blown against my cheek. How she trusted me, stranger though
I was! Yet it was through no lack of knowledge of the great world of
men, for this young girl had known court gallants and rough soldiery,
soft-spoken courtiers and boastful men-at-arms. So the night through I
dreamed of what might be; and when the light finally came slowly
reddening the eastern sky, I feasted my eyes unchecked upon that sweet
upturned face, and made a rash vow that I would win her heart.

I was still mirroring her image in my memory, forgetful of all
else,--the broad white brow, the long dark lashes resting in such
delicate tracery against the smooth velvet of the cheek now slightly
flushed, the witching pink of the ear, the softly parted lips between