Stern was growing excited; the girl had to calm him once more.
"Be quiet, Allan, or I'll leave you this minute and you shan't know another thing!" she threatened.
"All right, I'll be good," he promised. "What next? I'm the Big Chief now, of course? What I say now goes?"
She answered nothing, but a troubled wrinkle drew between her perfect brows. For a moment there was silence, save for the dull and distant roaring of the flame.
By the glow of the bluish light in the hut, Stern looked up at her. Never had she seemed so beautiful. The heavy masses of her hair, parted in the middle and fastened with gold pins such as the Folk wore, framed her wonderful face with twilight shadows. He saw she was no longer clad in fur, but in a loose and flowing mantle of the brown fabric, caught up below the breast with a gold-clasped girdle.
"Oh, Beatrice," he breathed, "kiss me again!"
She kissed him; but even in the caress he sensed an unvoiced anxiety, a hidden fear.
"What's wrong?" asked he anxiously.
"Nothing, dear. Now you must be quiet! You're in the patriarch's house here. You're safe--for the present, and--"
"For the present? What do you mean?"
"See here." the girl threatened, "if you don't stop asking questions, and go to sleep again, I'll leave you alone!"
"In that case I promise!"
And now obedient, he closed his eyes, relaxed, and let her soothingly caress him. But still another thought obtruded on his mind.
"Beatrice?"
"Yes, dearest."
"How long ago was that fight?"
"Oh, a little while. Never mind now!"
"Yes, but how long? Two days? Four? Five?"
"They don't have days down here," she evaded.
"I know. But reckoning our way--five days?"
"Nearer ten, Allan."
"What? But then--"
The girl withdrew her hand from him and arose.
"I see it's no use, Allan," she said decisively. "So long as I stay with you you'll ask questions and excite yourself. I'm going! Then you'll have to keep still!"
"Beta! Beta!" he implored. "I'll be good! Don't leave me--you mustn't!"
"All right; but if you ask me another question, a single one, mind, I'll truly go!"
"Just give me your hand, girlie, that's all! Come here--sit down beside me again--so!"
He turned on his side, on the rude couch of coarse brown fabric stuffed with dried seaweed, laid his hollow cheek upon her hand, and gave a deep sigh.
"Now, I'm off," he murmured. "Only, don't leave me, Beta!"
For half an hour after his deep, slow breathing told that the wounded man was sleeping soundly--half an hour as time was measured where the sun shone, for down in the black depths of the abyss all such divisions were as naught, Beatrice sat lovingly and tenderly beside the primitive bed. Her right palm beneath his face, she stroked his long hair and his wan cheek with her other hand; and now she smiled with pride and reminiscence, now a grave, troubled look crossed her features.