shut, and the dogs of the camp were chasing each other over the loose
boards of the piazza floor. She laughed a weak, convulsive laugh, thinking
of the engineer's sallies of old upon that band of Ishmaelites, and of the
scrambling, yelping rush that followed. He must have gone East, else the
dogs had not been so bold. She looked down the valley where the mountains
parted seaward, the only break in the continuous barrier of land that cut
off her retreat and closed in about the atom of her own identity. The
thought of that immensity of distance made her faint.

There were steps on the porch,--not Captain Dyer's, for he and his good
wife were lending their voices to swell the stentorian chorus that was
shaking the church on the hill; the footsteps paused at the door, and
Arnold himself opened it. He had not, evidently, expected to see her.

"I was looking for some one to ask about you," he said. "Are you sure you
are able to be down?"

"Oh yes. I've been sitting up for several days. I wanted to see the
mountains again."

He was looking at her intently, while she flushed with weakness, and drew
the fringes of her shawl over her tremulous hands.

"How ill you have been! I have wished myself a woman, that I might do
something for you! I suppose Mrs. Dyer nursed you like a horse."

"Oh no; she was very good; but I don't remember much about the worst of it.
I thought you had gone home."

"Home! Where do you mean? I didn't know that I had ever boasted of any