"Why, then," cried I, amazed, "my dream was true. They have marched across country on Carthagena--"
"Yes, Martin, but what dream--?"
"With four guns, mounted on wheels?"
"Yes, Martin; they built four gun-carriages to Adam's design. But what of your dream?"
So I told her of Atlamatzin and the visions I had beheld; "and I saw you also, my loved Joan; aye, as I do remember, you knelt on the deck above, praying and with your arms reached out--"
"Why, so I did often--one night in especial, I remember, weeping and calling to you, for I was very fearful and--lonely, dear Martin. And that night, I remember, I dreamed I saw you, your back leaned to a great rock as you were very weary, and staring into a fire, sad-eyed and desolate. Across your knees was your gun and all around you a dark and dismal forest, and I yearned to come to you and could not, and so watched and lay to weep anew.--Oh, dear, loved Martin!"
Here she turned, her eyes dark with remembered sorrow, wherefore I took and lifted her to my knee, holding her thus close upon my heart.
"Tell me," said I after some while, "when Adam marched on his desperate venture, did he name any day for his likely return?"
"Yes, Martin!"
"And when was that?"
"'Twas the day you came."
"Then he is already late," quoth I. "And he was ever mighty careful and exact in his calculations. 'Tis an adventure so daring as few would have attempted, saving only our 'timid' Adam. And how if he never returns, my Damaris--how then?"
"Ah, then--we have each other!" said she.
"And therein is vast comfort and--for me great joy!" quoth I.