"I am ashamed of you," said Roldan, with a lofty scorn which was good
for five words and no more.

It was a half hour later that they stood upon the high bank of the creek
and looked gratefully up at the broad strip of night light. After the
dense shadows of the forest the cold light of stars seemed more radiant
than noon-day.

"We cannot follow along the bank for more than a little way at a time,
on account of the ferns and brush," said Roldan. "We should walk three
times the distance, and perhaps get lost again. I am going to wade. Will
you?"

"Madre de dios! And get rheumatism? My teeth clack together at the
thought."

"You will not be able to keep still long enough to get rheumatism, my
friend. By the grace of Mary we shall be on horseback all day to-morrow.
The water is not a foot deep, and the chill only lasts a moment. Take
off your boots."

"What is left of them," muttered Adan. But they were better than no
boots, and he took them off, and slung them round his neck. Roldan
scrambled down the bank and plunged into the creek. Adan, after a
moment's hesitation, followed with audible reluctance. He thrust the tip
of one foot into the icy water, withdrew it with a shout, tried the
other; then seeing that Roldan was splashing far ahead, jumped in with
both feet and ran along the slippery rocks, wondering when the change of
temperature would occur. His teeth clattered loudly. He pulled in and
executed a war-dance on the stones, then sat down on a fallen boulder