Nothing, in short, portable or valuable was left. Darrell stood erect in the bark, with his drawn sword in hand, prepared to repel the attack of his assailants, who, in their turn, seemed to await with impatience the moment which should deliver him into their power. She set her fingers in the hair and tugged, drawing him to a sitting posture and stooping so that her eyes would be on the level with his when he awoke. He had reacted by laughing at her, informing her coolly that she was naïve in many things. "When you're older, you'll know that secrets of importance are not disclosed gratuitously. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. That is what I don't understand. He hated the taste of it. The open windows were above them now and, unless the intruder were to lean out, they could not possibly be seen.
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