“Don’t you think we had better leave them alone?” I said to Miss Trevor.

She smiled and shook her head.

“You are blind as a bat, Mr. Crocker,” she said.

The Celebrity had weighed Miss Thorn’s words and was listening passively now while she talked.  There may be talents which she did not possess; I will not pretend to say.  But I know there are many professions she might have chosen had she not been a woman.  She would have made a name for herself at the bar; as a public speaker she would have excelled.  And had I not been so long accustomed to picking holes in arguments I am sure I should not have perceived the fallacies of this she was making for the benefit of the Celebrity.  He surely did not.  It is strange how a man can turn under such influence from one feeling to another.  The Celebrity lost his resentment; apprehension took its place.  He became more and more nervous; questioned me from time to time on the law; wished to know whether he would be called upon for testimony at Allen’s trial; whether there was any penalty attached to the taking of another man’s name; precisely what Drew would do with him if captured; and the tail of his eye was on the thicket as he made this inquiry.  It may be surmised that I took an exquisite delight in quenching this new-born thirst for knowledge.  And finally we all went into the cave.

Miss Thorn unpacked the things we had brought, while I surveyed the cavern.  It was in the solid rock, some ten feet high and irregular in shape, and perfectly dry.  It was a marvel to me how cosy she made it.  One of the Maria’s lanterns was placed in a niche, and the Celebrity’s silver toilet-set laid out on a ledge of the rock, which answered perfectly for a dressing-table.  Miss Thorn had not forgotten a small mirror.  And as a last office, set a dainty breakfast on a linen napkin on the rock, heating the coffee in a chafing-dish.

“There!” she exclaimed, surveying her labors, “I hope you will be more comfortable.”

He had already taken the precaution to brush his hair and pull himself together.  His thanks, such as they were, he gave to Miss Thorn.  It is true that she had done more than any one else.

“Good-bye, old boy!” said the Fraction.  “We’ll come back when we get the chance, and don’t let that hundred thousand keep you awake.”

The Fraction and I covered up the mouth of the cave with brush.  He became confidential.

“Lucky dog, Allen!” he said.  “They’ll never get him away from Cooke.  And he can have any girl he wants for the asking.  By George!  I believe Miss Thorn will elope with him if he ever reaches Canada.”

I only mention this as a sample of the Fraction’s point of view.  I confess the remark annoyed me at the time.