She made a determination, sullen, like a child, to ride on
and on into the wilderness, and let fate take care of her. The pack
she could bundle together as best she might; she would live as she
might; and for a guide there would be the hunger for Pierre.
So she ended her thoughts with a hope; her head nodded lower, and she
slept the deep sleep of the exhausted mind and body. She woke hours
later with a start, instantly alert, quivering with fear and life and
energy, for she felt like one who has gone to sleep with voices in
his ear.
While she slept someone had been near her; she could have sworn it
before her startled eyes glanced around.
And though she kept whispering, with white lips, "No, no; it is
impossible!" yet there was evidence which proved it. The fire should
have burned out, but instead it flamed more brightly than ever, and
there was a little heap of fuel laid conveniently close. Moreover,
both horses were saddled, and the pack lashed on the saddle of her
own mount.
Whatever man or demon had done this work evidently intended that she
should ride Wilbur's beautiful bay.
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