He was fainting, yet his sensations were singularly acute. Mescal's hand
dropped from his shoulder; her cheek, that had been cold against his,
grew hot; she quivered through all her slender length. Confusion claimed
his senses. Gratitude and hope flooded his soul. Something sweet and
beautiful, the touch of this desert girl, rioted in his blood; his heart
swelled in exquisite agony. Then he was whirling in darkness; and he
knew no more.
II
WHITE SAGE
THE night was as a blank to Hare; the morning like a drifting of hazy
clouds before his eyes. He felt himself moving; and when he awakened
clearly to consciousness he lay upon a couch on the vine-covered porch of
a cottage. He saw August Naab open a garden gate to admit Martin Cole.
They met as friends; no trace of scorn marred August's greeting, and
Martin was not the same man who had shown fear on the desert. His
welcome was one of respectful regard for his superior.
"Elder, I heard you were safe in," he said, fervently. "We feared--I
know not what. I was distressed till I got the news of your arrival.
How's the young man?"
"He's very ill.
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