“Much better,” said Nick promptly.  “Care to try?”

She shook her head in the darkness.  “I don’t think you are telling the truth,” she said.

“What?” said Nick.

He spoke carelessly, but she did not repeat her assertion.  A sudden shyness descended upon her, and she became silent.  Nick was quiet too, and she wondered what was passing in his mind.  But for the tenseness of the arm that encircled her, she could have believed him to be dozing.  The silence was becoming oppressive when abruptly he broke it.

“See!” he said.  “Here comes the dawn!”

She started and stared in front of her, seeing nothing.

“Over to your left,” said Nick.  And turning she beheld a lightening of the darkness high above them.

She breathed a sigh of thankfulness, and watched it grow.  It spread rapidly.  The walls of the ravine showed ghostly grey, then faintly pink.  Through the dimness the boulders scattered about the stream stood up like mediaeval monsters, and for a few panic-stricken seconds Muriel took the twining roots of a rhododendron close at hand for the coils of a gigantic snake.  Then as the ordinary light of day filtered down into the gloomy place she sighed again with relief, and looked at her companion.

He was sitting with his chin on his hand, gazing across the ravine.  He did not stir or glance in her direction.  His yellow face was seamed in a thousand wrinkles.

A vague misgiving assailed her as she looked at him.  There was something unnatural in his stillness.

“Nick!” she said at length with hesitation.

He turned sharply, and in an instant the ready grin leaped out upon his face.  “Good morning,” he said lightly.  “I was just thinking how nice it would be to go down there and have a wash.  We’ve got to pass the time somehow, you know.  Will you go first?”

His gaiety baffled her, but she did not feel wholly reassured.  She got up slowly, and as she did so, her attention was caught by something that sent a thrill of dismay through her.

“Don’t look at my feet, please,” said Nick.  “They won’t bear inspection at present.”

She turned horrified eyes to his face, as he thrust them down into a bunch of fern.  “How dreadful!” she exclaimed.  “They are all cut and gashed.  I didn’t know you were barefooted.”

“I wasn’t,” said Nick.  “I’ve got some sandals here.  Don’t look like that!  You make me want to cry.  I assure you it doesn’t hurt in the least.”

He grinned again as he uttered this cheerful lie, but Muriel was not deceived.

“You must let me bind them up,” she said.

“Not for the world,” laughed Nick.  “I couldn’t walk with my feet in poultice-bags, and we shall have some more rough marching to do to-night.  Now don’t you worry.  Run along like a good girl.  I’m going to say my prayers.”

It was flippantly spoken, but Muriel realised that it would be better to obey.  She turned about slowly, and began to make her way down to the stream.