The Everlasting Whisper

She started up to find it full day; she had been asleep, her head against his knee. The fire was dying down; she jumped up and replenished it, setting the broth back among the coals. King lay as he had lain last night; his continued coma was like a profound quiet sleep. He was very pale, and yet certainly not paler than when she had first looked upon his blood-smeared face.

She went to the canvas screen and looked out. The sun was shining. And oh, the glory of the sun after these long dark days! The sky was a deep, serene, perfect blue. The snow shone and glittered and sparkled everywhere. Down in the gorge she saw a little bird in quick flight. It skimmed the water; it Lighted on a rock in the spray; it put back its head and seemed to be bursting with a joy of song. A water-ouzel! A friend from out a happy past----To Gloria it seemed that the world was full of promise.

All day long she ministered to King, going back and forth tirelessly, since love and hope inspired every step she made. None of Brodie's men had come; she felt a strange confidence that they would not come. They were afraid of King as jackals are afraid of a lion; further, they did not know that he was wounded. She thought little of them, having much else to think of. She wound King's watch, guessing at the time; she judged it sensible to force a little nourishment upon him at regular intervals and brought him his broth every two hours.

At a little before noon Gloria, stooping over the fire, started erect and whirled about. King's eyes were open! She ran to him, dropping on her knees beside him, catching up his hand, whispering: "Mark! Oh, Mark--thank God!"

He looked at her strangely. There was a puzzled, bewildered expression in his eyes. He strove to move and again looked at her with that strange bewilderment. She saw his lips move--he wanted to say something, to ask something and, deserted now by all of that magnificent strength on which he had always leaned, was as weak as a baby.

"Don't try to talk, Mark," she cried softly. "Please; not yet. You are better; everything is all right."

She gave his hand a last squeeze and hurried back to the fire; his eyes, still shadow-filled, followed her curiously. She came back to him with cup and spoon. This he could understand; he opened his lips for the spoon, he accepted what she gave him and when she had finished lay looking up at her wonderingly.