that he could see and understand at once; he would not know what
had gone before, nor why she was there. His feeble glance took in
her face with lifeless interest. Perhaps it was because he had seen
her in that death-like dream; perhaps his weakness kept him from
true realisation. In any event, he did no more than to allow the
flicker of a smile to come into his eyes before he closed them
again. Breathlessly, she waited for the lids to lift once more.
She uttered his name softly, tenderly, time and again. As if hearing
someone calling from a great distance, he moved and again looked
upward, the consciousness of pain in his grey eyes. This time he
stared hard at her; his eyes grew brighter and then darkened with
wonder. At last she saw the look of surprise and joy and relief
that she had been hungering for; he knew her and he was beginning
to understand.

If he heard her while she knelt and thanked Ged for this first
great ray of hope, he gave forth no sign. When she turned her eyes
to his face again he was asleep. But she went forth into the day
with a song in her heart.

She looked about for Teresa. The girl was gone, no one knew whither.
Bray alone could say that she had started toward the thicket.
He pointed out the direction, but did not offer to accompany Jane
when she hurried away to carry the good news to the Spanish girl
who had been her staunch helper during the long vigil. Bray shook
his puzzled head as he followed her with his gaze. It had come
to him suddenly that the Spanish girl was not the solution to the
puzzle, after all.

Jane found the slim boyish figure lying on the ground, deep in the