Page:Romance & Reality 3.pdf/86

84 —and as for the matter of that, who does not? The day seemed as if it never would end; and as the evening closed, her anxiety became intolerable. Donna Margaretta, always unwilling to go to bed, was even more wakeful than usual. Then Marcela fancied that her child looked pale, and began to accuse her late sitting up as the cause. At last she was alone, and every thing buried in the most profound quiet. With a beating heart, but a quiet hand, she took the little basket of wine and provision. How thankful did she feel that their stores were all in her keeping! Once out of the house, she darted like a deer to the wood. The new moon gave just light enough to shew the way to one who knew it well; and Beatrice was with her father almost before she had thought of the dangers around them. Eagerly she displayed the contents of her basket: there was some dried meat, hard-boiled eggs, a small loaf, and a piece of honey comb; also some olives, and two or three cakes of chocolate. Beatrice felt heart-sick to see the famished voracity with which her father ate—it was the first time he had tasted food for three days.