"I'm so tired," she said. "Do you know, I'm awfully scared out here." Her lips were quivering. "Ain't a woman a funny thing, though?" said Sim Gage. "No use to be scared, none a-tall. I'll show you how us folks makes a bed. There's willer branches and pine underneath, and hay on top. Over that is the tarp, and now I'm spreading down the blankets. You can feel 'em--soft ones--_good_ blankets, I can tell you! Whole bed's kind of soft and springy, ma'am. You reckon you can sleep?" Responsively she stretched out a hand and felt across the surface of the soft new blankets. "Why, where are the sheets?" said she. "Sheets!" said Sim Gage in sudden consternation. "Now, look at that! That ornery low-down pup that come and stole my dish pan must of took all my sheets too! Fact is, I just made it up with blankets, like you see. But you needn't mind--they're plumb new and clean. Besides, it gets cold here along toward morning, even in the summer time. Blankets is best, along toward morning." She stood hesitant as she heard his feet turning away. "I'm going away fer a hour or so," said he. "I got to take care of my horse and things. Now, you feel around with your stick, sort of. I reckon I better go over before long and make up my own bed--my tent is beyond the willers yonder." She could not know that Sim Gage's bed that night would be composed of nothing better than a pile of willow boughs. He had given her the last of the new blankets--and his own old bed was missing now. Wid had fulfilled his threat and burned it. She stood alone, her throat throbbing, hesitant, at the side of the rude bunk. "He's a kind man," said she to herself, half aloud, after a time. "Oh, if only I could see!" She began to feel her way about, stood at the door for a time, looking out. Something told her that the darkness of night was coming on. She turned, felt her way back to the edge of the bunk, and knelt down, her head in her hands. Mary Warren prayed. She paused after a long time--half-standing, a hand upon the soft-piled blankets, her eyes every way. Yes, she was sure it was dark. And above all things she was sure that she was weary, unutterably, unspeakably weary. The soft warmth of the blankets about her was comforting. Sim Gage in his own place of rest was uneasy. Darkness came on late by the clock in that latitude. Something was on Sim's mind. He had forgotten to tell his new housekeeper how to make safe the door! He wondered whether she had gone to bed or whether she was sitting there in the dark--an added darkness all around her. He was sure that if he told her how to fasten the door she would sleep better.