No one spoke again for a little space. Somewhere sleepy birds twittered, disturbed by rustling leaves or stealthy marauders. Somewhere a clock intoned distantly. A train far away rushed through the night, perhaps to some Lonesome Land, but they were not on it. Then John Bradford broke the spell. He leaned down and kissed Evangeline. A little laugh bubbled up to him. "You must've made a mistake. I'm the wrong one--mercy gracious!"