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Smith, Alice Prescott

"Montlivet"

The accident that had strengthened
him still further by throwing Lord Starling into his hands he also owed
to me. But I looked up at the stars and did not lose courage. The
game was not over; the score was yet to be paid.
I had many plans to arrange. Day was coming, and I watched the horizon
breaking and felt that the morning would bring new opportunity.
And then, just as I needed all my wit and presence, I fell into a deep,
exhausted sleep.


CHAPTER XXII
THE PRICE OF SLEEP
I do not know that, after all, I can call that sleep which fell upon
me. Sleep is merely a blessed veiling of the faculties; this was
collapse, deadness. The Indian beside me must have been equally worn,
for he lay like a log. We were huddled close to a tree, so were
unnoticed, or at least undisturbed. The sun was hours high when I
opened my eyes.
I sprang to my feet, dragging the Indian to his knees. He grunted,
rubbed his eyes, and feeling sluggish and uncomfortable from the warmth
of the morning, found me an incubus. He grunted again, untied the
thongs that bound us, and went, stretching and yawning, to find his
breakfast.
I stood for a moment marshaling my wits. The bright day and the noise
confused me, for I had been deep sunk in unconsciousness, and grasped
the real world unsteadily.


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