A Princess of the Balkans/Chapter 8

Thalia stifled a little scream, then "Well shot!" she cried, with spirit.

Still lying on his face, with the muzzle of his rifle projecting over the edge of the cliff, Dallas turned to her a white face in which his gray eyes shone like two pieces of jade.

"Thanks. It wasn't so bad, considering the range—eh?"

But Thalia was looking down upon the cabin far beneath.

"Look!" she cried.

At the sound of the rifle shot, Connors had come quickly out of the hut; then, as Dimitri's death scream rang out, he and Sir James had rushed into the hut, as Dallas guessed, to secure their weapons. An instant later they emerged, passed around the cabin, and when Thalia spoke they were leaning over the body of the Serb. Presently Connors rolled it on its back in a manner which shewed Dallas that the guide was quite dead; then the Irishman looked up toward the mountainside and waved his hat, as if in acknowledgment of the success of Dallas' long shot.

"You killed!" said Thalia between her teeth.

"That was my object. He deserved it, don't you think?"

The girl threw him a quick, curious look.

"Did you ever kill a man before?"

"No. But it looks as if I might have to kill a few more pretty soon. See there!" He waved his rifle toward the cabin. The wild-looking band of armed men had passed around the edge of the clearing and come in sight of the hut. Sir James had returned to Paula, and Connors, who had gathered up the rifles dropped by the Serb, was standing by the cabin door, apparently loading them. Suddenly Sir James turned and stared at the band, which was distant about a hundred yards; then, preceded by Paula, walked to the hut and entered.

"Ah!" muttered Dallas. "They see them. Wish we were down there. What do you think they are, Thalia? Brigands?" He looked up at the girl, who nodded. They were both rather pale, and Thalia's eyes had darkened.

"Yes," she answered; "brigands for the time being, probably recruited by Dimitri to rob us and perhaps hold us for ransom. It was arranged, no doubt, between him and the herder at the cabin of whom we stopped last night. See"—she pointed downward—"the swine-herd is talking to them, and they are looking up here."

"They will be hunting us directly," growled Dallas, "and I've only four rounds left. What rotten luck, to have been up here just when that gang arrived! But if we had been down there, the chances are that Dimitri would have got away with the guns," he added thoughtfully.

"We are much better here than there," said Thalia. "Those other people are trapped; but they are two good fighting men, and have rifles and plenty of ammunition, and there is venison and water and wine and other food in the hut. They can stand three days' siege, and by that time we can rescue them."

"We can?"

"Yes. Don't you see what we have got to do? We are just on the edge of my country; it is only the other side of those hills." She motioned across the valley. "Two days' journey on foot, and we shall begin to fall in with the Shkipetari. The first Albanian we meet will raise his clan in no time when I tell him who I am, and we will come back here and feed that carrion"—she tossed her head toward the herders—"to the jackals."

Dallas glanced at her quickly. The girl's voice carried a fierce little ring, there was a bright red spot in either cheek, and her eyes were aflame. For the first time the young man realized that the girl beside him was herself pure Albanian, a native of the wild mountain fastnesses which had been the scene of so many sanguinary feuds, and that she herself possessed no very thick veneer of what is generally understood as civilization. But he cast his eyes in the direction of the wild country which intervened and shook his head doubtfully.

"Do you think that we could do it?" he asked.

"We have got to!"

"But first we must get past these people; then we would not dare to take the road, but would have to go cross country, and we have no food nor shelter—not even a blanket. Where could you sleep?"

"On the ground. We can build a fire. What else is there to do?"

"Give ourselves up," said Dallas, "if it is only the question of a ransom."

Thalia's mouth grew scornful.

"You may if you like," she answered. "I shall try for Dakabar!"

Dallas turned to her a slightly reddened face. "It is for the safety of you girls, of course," he said. "This is my expedition, and I will stand any incidental expenses—such as a few thousand pounds' ransom. I should far rather do that than to expose you to danger and hardship."

Thalia's face softened. She stooped and patted Dallas' shoulder as he lay half sprawled on one hip, his rifle under him.

"You are a dear," said she. "But my plan is not so difficult. We can slip past those men in the beech woods on the other side of this mountain. And you still have four shots. The others can hold out. Oh, look! Look down there, Dallas!"

The herders were advancing in a body toward the hut. When they were within fifty yards of the door, Sir James stepped out, rifle in hand, and waved them back. They halted, and there appeared to be some sort of discussion going on, the hillmen, from their gestures, apparently asserting their friendly intentions, while the Englishman made from time to time the backward motion with his rifle barrel.

Then all at once the palaver came to a sudden and startling end. There was a commotion among the herders; Sir James sprang quickly back into the hut. Sudden jets of blue-white smoke leaped out from the clustered hillmen, and a moment later the crash of a scattering volley came up in multiple reverberations.

"The murderous swine!" snarled Dallas, instinctively shoving out his 30-40. But Thalia, crouching beside him, laid her hand quickly on his arm.

"Save your shots," said she. "We may need them."

"That's so." He lowered the rifle and looked at her over his shoulder. "Hope nobody got hit. That shack is built of stones and mud, and ought to stop bullets. Ah!"

The hillmen had opened their ranks, and were approaching the cabin, when two thin puffs of smoke leaped apparently from the solid wall. A faint yell quavered up from beneath. One of the herders pitched forward on his face, while another reeled backward and fell across a pile of stones. Again came the fatal spurts of smoke from the cabin, and another hillman was down and crawling away on all fours. The herders scattered swiftly, flying for shelter in all directions, while the air was filled with the rumbling reverberations thrown back from one side of the valley to the other.

Dallas turned a pale but exultant face toward Thalia.

"Fine! Oh, fine!" he cried, and clapped his thigh. "They've knocked loopholes in all four walls! Gad! There are three of the beggars out of the running, Thalia! How many more were there in the gang? A dozen, perhaps?"

"More than that. But, Dallas, we must go."

"Then you want to try for Dakabar?"

"What else is there to do? Those animals mean murder and loot. And we have no time to spare. They know that we are up here."

He nodded and swung himself to his feet.

"Yes; they will be stalking us presently. The war is on now. We will try to get around into the woods on the other side of the mountain, then work down to the river. Do you think we can get across?"

"We must—even if we have to swim for it."

Dallas did not answer, but led the way along the little shelf, which presently broadened into a sort of grassy terrace, almost a mountain pasture. Crossing this, they came upon a steep, bowlder-strewn slope which a quarter of a mile below was met by a heavy growth of beech woods extending all the way down into the valley. Far below they could hear the roar of the Moravitza.

Down the rocky slope they plunged as fast as safety would permit, then presently the forest closed in about them: splendid beeches and oaks, with here and there scattering conifers, pines, and firs. There was very little underbrush, and their eyes were kept alert for any sign of the enemy.

Both were beginning to think that they would reach the river unmolested when from close at hand upon their right there came a loud report, and a bullet hummed past their heads.

"Jump behind a tree!" cried Dallas.

Five paces to their left, a big beech reared its sheltering trunk, and under the cover of this they slipped like Indians. About a hundred yards away, a blue cloud of smoke was dissipating in the thick foliage overhead.

"He's behind that oak!" whispered Dallas. "Crouch down, Thalia; I'll shoot over your head if I get sight of him."

For a moment they waited; then Dallas muttered: "Stop here; I'll run him out."

It had crossed his mind that their enemy was probably armed with a muzzle loader; also that they had little time to lose. Between them and the oak about which the smoke was swirling there were several big trees, and, leaving his shelter, Dallas ran for the cover of the nearest. Just as he reached it, he caught a glimpse of a dark figure running back into the woods. Dallas sprang clear of his tree, threw up his rifle, took a quick shot at a range of not more than fifty yards, and saw the man plunge headforemost into a clump of bushes which looked like laurel.

"Got him!" he called to Thalia. "Come on!"

Together they ran on down the wooded slope. A little lower, they encountered a thick growth of scrub, into which they slipped like hares, plunging through thorns and brambles, from which they finally emerged upon the bank of the river.

"Listen!" said Thalia, as they crouched in the dense willow growth that fringed the shore.

Not far behind them there had broken out a clamor of savage yells, which were answered faintly from higher up the mountains.

"They are coming!" panted Dallas. "We can't stop here. Let's try to get across."

They had struck the river at one of its still reaches, and, as the autumn rains had not yet begun, the stream was low, with pebbly bars and broad, standing pools. Close to the opposite bank, however, they could see a narrow channel of swift, dark water, which a little farther downstream was hidden from sight by what would have been when the river was high a long, narrow island thickly covered with bushes and a growth of willows. Dallas pointed toward it with his rifle barrel.

"Let's get over there," he said. "It seems to be a good cover, and we can cross on the other side without being seen. That is, if we can cross."

Pushing their way through the bushes, they came out upon the shingly river bed, where for a hundred yards they were exposed to great danger of being seen. But their enemies were apparently higher up in the woods, and they reached the island undiscovered and crawled into the scrub, where they sank down for a moment to rest and breathe.

"Looks deep on the other side," said Dallas.

"We can wade it, I think."

"Hope so."

"Can't you swim?" "I'd rather smoke. Besides, here's the rifle."

"Give that to me."

"Look here, Thalia, you leave that rifle alone. I'm a good deal of a duffer, I know, but I haven't reached the stage where I must have my gun carried up cliffs and across rivers for me by a girl."

"You are a little new to climbing," said Thalia, "and you may not be much of a swimmer; but you can shoot!" She rose to her feet. "Wait here; I want to see how deep it is."

Dallas waited, closely watching the opposite bank. A moment later, Thalia returned.

"We can wade it," she said. "The water is not more than waist-deep, and the current is less swift than it looks. What is the matter?" For Dallas' face was very grave.

"I was thinking," said he, "that it's a pretty serious matter to have to lie out in the woods soaking wet. There is frost almost every night up here."

Thalia smiled; then the color poured into her face.

"We can take them off," said she.

"What!" Dallas turned to her so shocked and startled a face that she burst into a laugh.

"Don't look so scandalized, Dallas. You can stop here until you hear me whistle. Then I will go up into the bushes and you can come over. There's no Mrs. Grundy in the Kapaonik Mountains."

Dallas laughed. "My word, Thalia, but you are a good little sport! Go ahead, then, because we haven't any time to lose."

For a moment their eyes met. Thalia's cheeks were very red and her lips like coral. Thorn and brier had left their cruel marks across her flushed, lovely face; the scarf of her kalpak was gone, and stray wisps of her bronze-black hair had escaped from under the rim of her cap and were curling about her delicate ears. As Dallas looked at her, his face was lit by a sudden glow of admiration, and at the expression in his habitually cynical eyes Thalia first looked questioning, then turned away with a deeper flush.

"Gad! But you're a wonder!" said Dallas. "You look as if you actually liked it all."

"I should not mind—if it were not for the others."

"It is James that should be here," said Dallas, "instead of me."

She slightly raised her chin. "And you ought to be with Paula."

"Had I? But run along, Thalia; we've got no time to lose."

She turned and slipped into the bushes, and a few moments later Dallas heard the clinking of pebbles behind him; for the little island, although perhaps fifty yards in length, was not more than four or five in width. He was reflecting on the gravity of the situation and keeping a keen watch upon the opposite bank of the river, when from almost the very spot where he and Thalia had come out there emerged three of the hillmen.

Dallas' grip on his rifle tightened instinctively. The three men stood for a moment looking up and down the stream, then across in his direction. As they were a little above the head of the island, it suddenly occurred to Dallas that from where they stood it might be possible to see Thalia when she reached the opposite bank. He climbed to his feet, and, crouching low, pushed his way through the dense bushes to the edge of the channel. Halfway over, Thalia was wading bosom-deep in the clear, icy water. Her clothes, wrapped into a snug bundle, were held poised upon her head by one round, gleaming arm. Although the current was not swift, the girl was having a hard time to keep her footing, as Dallas could see from the unsteady movements of her head and shoulders and the oscillations of her free arm in the water. She wore a single white undergarment, which was apparently impeding her balance, for she paused occasionally as if to disentangle herself from its folds.

Dallas whistled softly, and she looked back over her shoulder, when he made a sweeping gesture downstream, then pointed toward the bank which they had left. Thalia threw up her free arm in answer. Dallas turned and crept back to his ambush.

The three hillmen had separated and were walking out across the cobbly river bottom. Suddenly the one farthest upstream paused and pointed to the ground. The others joined him, and for a moment all three studied the cobbles attentively. It was evident to Dallas that they had found the trail, for they looked toward the little island and half raised their weapons, then proceeded warily in his direction.

"There is nothing for it," he thought grimly, "but to pot all three."

He raised his rifle and covered the man to the right. But for some reason he found himself unable to pull the trigger.

"I'm a fool," he thought, and, rising to his feet, strode out upon the edge of the bar.

The herders saw him instantly and stopped in their tracks. Dallas motioned them back. The men did not move. Dallas repeated his gesture. Two of the herders fell back a pace; then the man on the left threw his gun quickly to his shoulder and fired. Dallas staggered back with a sense of sharp, violent pain. There was a stabbing through his chest and a burning sensation on the side of his head and through his left forearm.

With a little snarl of rage, he dropped on one knee, threw his rifle to his shoulder, and, sighting on the man who had fired, pulled the trigger. The fellow screamed, flung out his arms, and went over backward. The soft-nosed hunting bullet had struck him fairly in the chest, mushroomed, and torn its way through, killing him instantly.

One of his companions turned and fled back toward the bank. The other raised his weapon and fired, then wheeled about and followed him. Dallas, pulling himself together with an effort, fired again, but missed. Quite by instinct, he threw his last cartridge into the chamber, and, setting his teeth, for the pain in his arm was intense, got the man's back fairly before the sights and fired again. This time the bullet found its mark, and the man went down, his weapon clattering among the stones.

Sick and giddy, Dallas turned and crept back into the bushes, where he sank to the ground. The blood was streaming down the side of his face, and his left arm felt numb and powerless. There was a burning pain on the right side of his chest. He pulled up his flannel hunting shirt and discovered a small hole from which the blood was trickling in crimson drops. But a spot on the outer edge of his right shoulder blade was giving him intense pain, and, placing his left hand over it, he felt a small, hard object just beneath the skin.

"Guess I'm rather badly hit," he thought, "but I must get across before I get any weaker."

Laying down the rifle, now useless for lack of ammunition, he staggered through the bushes and into the icy water. Directly opposite stood Thalia, clad in a long white garment which fell from her shoulders to her knees.

"Are you hit?" she cried tremulously.

"Yes," he answered, and waded out into the stream.

Halfway across, the water deepened suddenly; an eddy of the current caught him and swept him off his feet. Down he went, but came up to find a fresh footing. The trees on the opposite bank were blurred and misty, and he seemed to be drifting with the current. All at once the river bottom dropped from under his feet. Acting by instinct, he struck out feebly. Then there came a roaring in his ears, and green, swirling lights before his eyes, but he struggled to the surface., and as he did so saw Thalia's face close beside his own and felt a strong grasp on his shoulder. The bottom seemed to rise up under his feet again, and he tottered up the bank, to sink down helplessly upon the sun-warmed pebbles.

Thalia was kneeling beside him, her face drawn and white and tense.

"Are you badly hurt?" she cried.

"Don't think so," muttered Dallas. "Go and dress." He struggled to sit up, but Thalia flung one arm across his chest and drew him back until his head rested on her knee, where it lay with a little stream of blood trickling down from his forehead.

The girl's swift fingers explored the wound. From the side of the forehead to the temple the scalp was plowed open. Thalia gave a sigh of relief.

"It glanced off."

"Yes," muttered Dallas; "the brute peppered me with buckshot."

"Where else are you hit?"

"In the forearm; and there's a slug somewhere in my chest. But I'm feeling better now. Go and dress, Thalia."

But Thalia was examining the forearm. Apparently the bullet was imbedded somewhere in the muscles, as there was no wound of exit.

"Where else? In the chest?" She drew up the woolen shirt, and at sight of the small, sinister-looking bullet hole, gave a little gasp.

"It doesn't hurt," said Dallas. "I don't think it went through. Probably hit a rib and went around, because I felt it over here on the side. What nasty brutes—to sprinkle you with buckshot!"

"Are you in much pain?"

"No, I'm not in any pain. That cold water made 'em all numb. But you go and dress. Do you hear me? Go and dress! You will catch cold!"

Thalia rose slowly to her feet, and stood contemplating him with an utter disregard for the scantiness of her attire, which had in it something primitively heroic. Her expressive face was knit in lines of anxious thought.

"Could you get up the bank and into the bushes?" she asked.

"Yes, of course. I'm not badly hurt. It was only the first shock that knocked me out."

"But that wound in your chest?"

"Don't believe it went in. There would be blood in my mouth if it had. Probably followed the rib around, or it would not be there just under the skin." He clambered to his feet and stood for a minute, as if gauging his strength. Seeing the pallor of his face, Thalia stepped to his side and passed her round, bare arm under his.

"Lean on me," she said.

Steadied by the girl, he walked up the short, pebbly beach and pushed his way into the willows, where he half fell, half sank to the ground, his head swimming and his vision vague and misty. Thalia, startled at his pallor, leaned over him.

"Lie down," said she. "You're still faint."

Distressed more by his faintness than by the pain of his wounds, Dallas closed his eyes and let his head fall backward. He was dimly conscious that it was being gently supported; then it seemed to him that he heard a sound of tearing cloth. A moment later his head began to clear again, and he opened his eyes and looked up under the brim of a bandage bound snugly across his forehead, and into the face of Thalia, who was bending anxiously over him.

"What's this thing?" He raised his hand to his head.

"A bandage, my dear."

Where did you get it?"

"At the chemist's around the corner."

Dallas raised himself till he sat upright. He looked at Thalia, who was sitting cross-legged, an anxious smile on her lips and her wet garment hanging limply from her shoulders.

"I thought I told you to go and dress," said Dallas sternly. "Now go! I shall not speak to you again until you get your clothes on."

He turned his back upon the girl, and sat for a few minutes trying to fight off his light-headedness. A little time elapsed; then the bushes behind him rustled, and he looked over his shoulder to see Thalia, a Servian peasant boy again. She looked at him inquiringly.

"I feel quite fit now," said he. "But, Thalia, we are in a bad fix."

She nodded, her lovely face very grave.

"There is only one thing for us to do, Dallas. I have found a little path which must lead up to a house not far above us, because I followed it for a few steps and came upon a spring, all stoned in, with footprints in the ground about it. We must go up and take our chances."

"You think it's safe?"

"There's no choice. You are wounded and soaking wet, and must have shelter. Besides, hospitality is a very sacred thing all through these mountains—all over the Balkans, in fact. Perhaps I can talk to the people and make them understand that it would be to their profit to treat us well. Can you walk a little distance?"

"Oh, yes; I'm all right now. You are right, Thalia; we've got to have shelter."

Pushing their way through the bushes, they came presently upon a little footpath which wound up through a pine grove to come out a short distance beyond upon a small plateau covered with splendid oaks. The spot was charmingly picturesque: one hundred feet below them flowed the Moravitza; on three sides of the plateau the land fell away steeply, and on the fourth rose the precipitous side of the mountain. There was no underbrush, and through the vistas between the big tree trunks they could see far down the valley and catch glimpses of the distant hills bathed in the brilliant yellow sunlight of the late afternoon.

"There's the cabin," said Thalia, pointing toward the mountainside.

Snugly built in the shelter of the overhanging cliffs was a clean little dwelling, tidy and picturesque, constructed of stones and clay, with a roof of hand-hewn pine slabs. Behind it, at a little distance, was a shed or stable, and about the door of this some she-goats were browsing quietly, their kids tucked here and there asleep in the sunny patches, fluffy little balls of fur. The door of the cabin was slightly ajar. There was not a sound about the place, nor was there any smoke coming from the chimney.

Thalia and Dallas walked straight up to the cabin, then paused, and the girl called aloud. There was no reply, but as they waited a large yellow cat came walking calmly out, and, with its tail straight in the air, approached the girl and rubbed, purring, against her leg.

The man and the girl looked at each other and smiled.

"A kind welcome at least," said he.

The wise-faced nanny goats had been regarding them curiously, but with no sign of alarm. The kids also had raised their baby faces to look, and, as Dallas spoke, one of the little creatures hopped upon its stumpy feet and came bounding toward him, first to butt playfully at his knee and then to sniff at his fingers with a soft, expectant little nose. The mother followed more slowly and sedately and with no trace of fear.

"If the people receive us as kindly as their animals," said Dallas, "we shall be in luck."

Thalia, who had been closely scrutinizing the cabin, turned to him a face which showed great relief.

"I think we have come to the right place," said she. "This is the cabin of a holy man, probably a hermit."

"Christian?"

"No, Mohammedan. But he must be really a good man, and no doubt kind, from the way his pets behave. Do you see those little scraps of rags fastened to the window shutters?"

"Yes. What are they?"

"Prayers—or, at least, reminders of prayers. Votive offerings of a sort. Let's look in."

They walked toward the cabin, and the cat followed, purring. As they reached the door, there was a fluttering over their heads, and a large jay came tumbling from the treetops, a flash of blue and gray shimmering feathers. The bird fluttered about their heads, then lighted on the window sill and hopped inside.

Thalia glanced at Dallas and smiled; then, slipping a loop of cord from a peg in the door, pushed it open and entered.

Within was a single large room, quite bare and scrupulously neat and clean. There was a big, open fireplace, and in one corner a sort of raised platform, on which were spread some sheepskins and a heavy woolen blanket. In the other corner were some shelves filled with what looked to be manuscripts. In front of the window stood a rough table, on which was an earthen vessel holding a cluster of late roses, beside which were a pair of big, steel-rimmed spectacles, an inkwell, a long plume pen, and a large leather-bound book. The jay bird had entered through a crevice between the shutters and was pecking at some crumbs of bread on the table. It cocked its head, gave them a bright, inquiring look, then strutted back to the window and flew out with a burst of melody which sounded like bird laughter.

"There can't be much harm in this man," said Dallas. "Suppose we consider ourselves his guests."

He crossed the room and seated himself on the edge of the platform. Thalia, glancing at him, saw that his face was very pale, and that his lips were blue and trembling. She was at his side instantly.

"Lie down," said she. "I will build a fire, and then we must get off those wet clothes and see to your wounds."

Dallas stretched himself out and drew the blanket over him. His teeth were beginning to chatter, and all his strength had suddenly left him. He pulled out his match box, which was fortunately water-tight, and handed it to the girl. Thalia went out, to return presently with an armful of wood, and in a few moments there was a fire blazing on the hearth.

"Now we must make you comfortable," said she. "Are you in pain?"

"No—just a little stiff and sore." He began to struggle with his coat. Thalia went to his aid.

"I can manage," muttered Dallas.

"Nonsense! You are a wounded man, and I am your nurse."

"But"

"Don't talk. Keep the blanket over you. Now let us get off this wet shirt. Now let me see your arm. What a wicked-looking little hole! The bullet is in there. Shouldn't it come out?"

"I don't see how we're going to manage it. Let it stay." Dallas sank back and pulled the blanket over him.

Thalia was tearing some cloth into strips. Hearing the ripping noise, Dallas turned his head and looked at her.

"What are you doing?"

"Don't ask questions."

"But you mustn't"

"Hush! I am going out now to get some pine balsam from one of those trees to smear over the wound. That is Shkipetari treatment. It stings a little, but it is clean and healing."

"You're a wonder!" muttered Dallas.

The girl went out, to return presently with some of nature's ointment on a piece of bark, when the wounds were quickly bandaged. Dallas, wrapped in the big woolen blanket, with his head on a pile of sheepskins, fell into a doze. When he opened his eyes again, he saw that his clothes were drying in front of the fire, while Thalia stood beside him with a smile on her red lips and a bowl in her hand.

"I have been milking the goats. Come, Dallas, drink this. We were fortunate to find this place. There is corn meal and cheese and olives and some dried plums, and I have found a little cave outside stored full of beet roots and turnips and cabbages. Besides, there are some chickens shut up in a coop between the cabin and the cliffs. We shall not starve."

"Any sign of our host?"

"No. Do you know, Dallas, I have an idea that he may have heard the firing and gone across the river to see what it was all about. Perhaps he has persuaded the herders to go away."

"You haven't heard any more firing?"

"Not a shot."

"Then perhaps you are right."

"Oh, I hope so! I hope so!"

"He may have gone on with James and the others."

"But do you think that they would go without us?"

"Very possibly; because, you see, they would be likely to guess at our plan, and they must have heard the firing down there by the river. They could tell the crack of my 30-40, and very likely think that by this time we are miles away."

Thalia nodded thoughtfully, and for a few moments neither spoke. Presently Dallas muttered as if to himself: "Poor old James!"

"Why?" asked Thalia quickly.

"Think how worried he must be about you, Thalia."

"Why not about you?"

"Oh, well, I'm a man; and, you see, he's—in love with you."

"Indeed!"

Dallas looked at her curiously. "Of course he is. Has he never told you so?"

"Never."

"Well, he is."

"What makes you think so?"

"Oh, several things. Among others, his telling me so about sixteen times a day."

"And Paula? Are you not horribly worried about her?"

"Naturally. But I don't see what there is to do about it. I say, Thalia, it is James who ought to be here now in my place."

"Wounds and all? How nice of you!"

"I'd forgot all about the wounds."

"But not about Paula," said the girl, in a low voice.

"But I'm not in love with Paula, nor she with me. I'm very fond of her, and think she's a little brick and the best little sport in the world, barring one. I say, Thalia, aren't my clothes almost dry?"

Thalia got up and examined the garments, which she had wrung out and hung before the hot blaze.

"Quite. Perhaps you had better put them on."

"I think so. I can manage; just give them to me, and then go out and play with the kids."

The girl obeyed in silence. A little later, when Dallas called her, she came in to find him dressed again and puzzling over the big book on the table by the platform.

"What's this thing?" asked Dallas.

"The Koran. Do you find it interesting?"

"Very. The whole state of affairs is that, but you are the most interesting of all, my dear girl."

She threw him a quick look, then walked to the door of the cabin and seated herself upon the threshold, where she remained in silence, watching the setting sun as it sank in a crimson glow behind the hilltops far down the valley.

Presently she arose, and, walking to the table, poured some milk into the bowl, and, setting it on the hearthstone, called the yellow cat, which came purring and placidly proceeded to make its evening meal. Dallas looked at the two and smiled.

"Quite cozy and domestic," said he. "But, really, I ought to be James."

Thalia turned to him swiftly; a little line had drawn itself between her eyes, which were dark and glowing.

"Can you think of nothing but James?" she demanded, with a little toss of her chin.

"But, Thalia"

"It is just James, James, James. I must say I don't think that it is in very good taste, Mr. Dallas."

"Oh, come, Thalia, you know perfectly well"

"I don't know anything," she replied sharply, "except that you seem to be very much upset because it is you and not James here in this cabin with me. I have tried to take good care of you and to be cheerful, and not to show how anxious I have been, and worried, and—and" She turned away with a little stamp of her sandaled foot.

"But, Thalia, don't you see—don't you think I'm appreciative of your pluck and resource and cheerfulness and all that? I am thinking about you."

"Indeed! One would never guess it! It seems as though you were thinking of nobody but James!"

"I am sorry."

"So am I—very! I wish it were—James." She stopped and began to stroke the cat. Dallas, lying on the platform, regarded her with a puzzled face.

"Do you really? Of course! Why shouldn't you?"

Outside, the late summer sunset had softened to a rich, delicious afterglow. Thalia got up suddenly and walked to the door, where she stood for a moment, breathing deeply the sweet evening air. A kid ran up to her and began to push its hard, downy little head playfully against her knees. The girl leaned down to stroke the small animal, then pushed one finger into the moist little mouth, when, play forgotten, it began to suck lustily and to bite with its baby teeth.

Dallas moved restlessly, when she turned and looked at him, her lovely face filled with shadows, and her eyes large and dark and inscrutable.

"I say, Thalia, you've had no supper."

"Indeed I have! Some corn bread and milk and cheese. That is a feast for an Albanian. You see, Mr. Dallas, you are of a different race and one accustomed to luxury, whereas I am a Shkipetari hill girl, and able to live royally where you would starve. To-night you can have only warm milk, because you are an invalid and there is danger of fever from your wounds. But to-morrow, if you are doing nicely, you shall have some eggs and other delicacies, and be as carefully fed and cared for as if you were—James. There is not a great deal to do with, but I shall do my best, Mr. Dallas."

"Stop calling me Mr. Dallas!"

Thalia did not answer. Presently Dallas said: "Where are you going to sleep?"

"On the floor in front of the fire."

"Indeed you shall do nothing of the sort! Besides, you have no blanket."

"But where else can I sleep? And I do not need a blanket. You see, I am just a Balkan hillwoman, and"

"Stop it, Thalia! What is the matter with you?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"You shall sleep here. I am going to sleep in front of the fire myself."

"That is nonsense." Thalia crossed the room and walked to the side of the platform.

"I mean it. Do you think I'm going to pig everything, just because I've got a couple of buckshot under my pelt? I shall camp in front of the fire." Forgetting his wounded arm, Dallas shoved himself upright, then sat swaying giddily from the pain caused by the effort.

"Dallas! Don't! Can't you be good? Lie down! Oh, please, please, please! If you only knew how worried I am about you!" Thalia's rich voice broke.

The man was too weak to contend further, so it ended in the girl's having her own way in sleeping in front of the fire, while Dallas sank back, exhausted, onto the platform.