His tones thrilled her, she felt faint with happiness. Suddenly came the thought: "When we find her, she will tell him! She will tell him all I said." "Don't believe her; don't believe anything she may tell you," she entreated, passionately. A fierce feeling took possession of her; she would fight for her happiness. "Am I nothing to you?" she said, pausing; "my wish nothing? Promise me not to believe anything Cicely says against me,--anything! It's all an hallucination." Paul had not paid much heed to her exclamations, he thought all women incoherent; but he perceived that she was excited, exhausted, and he laid his hand protectingly on her hair, smoothing it with tender touch. "Why should I mind what she says? It would be impossible for her to say anything that could injure you in _my_ eyes, Eve." Beyond the next point they saw a light; it came from a little fire of twigs on the beach. Beside the fire was Jack; he was carefully wrapped in the shawl, the two poor little packets of clothing were arranged under him as a bed; Cicely's straw hat was under his head, and her handkerchief covered his feet. But there was no Cicely. They went up and down the beach, and into the wood behind; again Eve looked fearfully at the water. "She isn't far from Jack," said Paul. "We shall find her in a moment or two." Eve's search stopped. "In a moment or two he will know!" "Here she is!" cried Paul. And there was Cicely, sitting close under the bank in the deepest shadow. She did not move; Paul lifted her in his arms. "The moon is under a cloud now," she explained, in a whispering voice; "as soon as it comes out, I shall see Ferdie over there on the opposite shore, and I shall call to him. "Don't let that fire go out, I haven't another match; he will need the light as a guide." "She thinks she is on Singleton Island!" said Eve;--"the night we got away." Her tone was joyous. XXVI. PAUL AND EVE took Cicely back to the camp. And almost immediately, before Mrs. Mile could undress her, she had fallen asleep. It was the still slumber of exhaustion, but it seemed also to be a rest; she lay without moving all that night, and the next day, and the night following. As she slumbered, gradually the tenseness of her face was relaxed, the lines grew lighter, disappeared; then slowly a pink colored her cheeks, restoring her beauty. They all came softly in from time to time to stand beside her for a moment. The nurse was sure that the sleep was nature's medicine, and that it was remedial; and when at last, on the second day, the dark eyes opened, it could be seen that physically the poor child was well.