Occasional little sounds assured him that Nesis was not idle.  Suddenly the thin barrier of earth between them caved in, and they clasped hands in the hole.

Five minutes more of scooping out and the way was clear.  Ambrose extended his long body on the floor and wriggled himself slowly under the log.

Outside an urgent hand on his shoulder restrained him.  Throwing herself on the ground, she put her lips to his ear.  “Go back!” she whispered.  “The moon is moch bright.  You must wait little while.”

Ambrose, mad to taste the free air of heaven, resisted a little sullenly.

“Please go back!” she whispered imploringly.  “I come in.  I got talk with you.”

He drew himself back into the shack with none too good a grace.  Standing over the hole when she appeared, he put his hands under her arms and, drawing her through, stood her upon her feet.

He could have tossed the little thing in the air with scarcely an effort.  She turned about and came close to him.

“I so glad to be by you!” she breathed.

She emanated a delicate natural fragrance like pine-trees or wild roses—­but Ambrose could only think of freedom.

“You managed to get here without being seen,” he grumbled.

“You foolish!” she whispered tenderly.  “I little.  I can hide behind leaves sof’ as a link.  Your white face him show by the moon lak a little moon.  Are you sorry you got stay with me little while?”

“No!” he said.  “But—­I’m sick to be out of this!”

She put her hands on his shoulders and drew him down.  “Sit on the floor,” she whispered.  “Your ear too moch high for my mouth."’

They sat, leaning against the footboard of the bed, Like a confiding child she snuggled her shoulder under his arm and drew the arm around her.  What was he to do hut hold her close?

“It is true, you ver’ moch strong,” she murmured.  “Lak a bear.  But a bear is ogly.”

“You didn’t think I was pretty to-day, did you,”, he said with a grin, “with a week’s growth on my chin?”

She softly stroked his cheek.  “Wah!” she said, laughing.  “Lak porcupine!  Red man not have strong beard lak that.  They say you scrape it off with a knife every day.”

“When I have the knife,” said Ambrose.

“Why you do that?” she asked.  “I lak see it grow down long lak my hair.  That would be wonderful!”

Ambrose trembled with internal laughter.

“I lak everything of you,” she murmured.

He was much troubled between his gratitude and his inability to reciprocate the naive passion she had conceived for him.  It is pleasant to be loved and flattered and exalted, but it entails obligations.

“I never can thank you properly for what you’ve done,” he said clumsily.

“I do anything for you,” she said quickly.  “So soon my eyes see you to the dance I know that.  Always before that I am think about white men.  I not see no white men before, only the little parson, and the old men at the fort.  They not lak you?  My father is the same as me.  He lak white men.  We talk moch about white men.  My fat’er say to me never forget the Angleys talk.  Do I spik Angleys good, Angleysman?”