IN WHICH DAVID THRYNG AWAKES

Thryng lay in Hoke Belew’s cabin, — not in the one great living-room where were the fireplace and the large bed and the tiny cradle, but in the smaller addition at the side, entered only from the porch which extended along the front of both parts.

He still lay on the litter upon which he had been placed to carry him down the mountain, — an improvised thing made by stretching quilts across two poles of slender green pines. The litter was placed on low trestles to raise it from the floor, and close to the open door to give him air. David had not regained consciousness since his hurt, but lay like one dead, with closed eyes and blanched lips; yet they knew him to be living.

Cassandra sat beside him alone.