. . .
But I must sleep--I must sleep--I am so tired; and I've--very far--to go
--across the world."
This was said very slowly, then the head thick with brown curls dropped
again on the priest's breast, heavy with sleep. Father Corraine,
flushing slightly at first, became now slightly pale, and his brow was a
place of war between thankfulness and perplexity. But he said something
prayerfully, then closed his lips firmly, and gently laid the figure
down, where it was immediately clothed about with slumber. Then he rose,
and standing with his eyes bent upon the sleeper and his fingers clasping
each other tightly before him, said: "Poor girl! So, she is alive. And
now what will come of it?"
He shook his grey head in doubt, and immediately began to prepare some
simple food and refreshment for the sufferer when she should awake. In
the midst of doing so he paused and repeated the words, "And what will
come of it?" Then he added: "There was no sign of pulse nor heart-beat
when I found her. But life hides itself where man cannot reach it."
Having finished his task, he sat down, drew the book of holy offices
again from his bosom, and read it, whisperingly, for a time; then fell to
musing, and, after a considerable time, knelt down as if in prayer.
While he knelt, the girl, as if startled from her sleep by some inner
shock, opened her eyes wide and looked at him, first with bewilderment,
then with anxiety, then with wistful thankfulness.
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