"It was well done, well done," he murmured proudly.
A moment afterwards he was hurrying down the hill to the open road, where a cariole awaited the Cure and himself.
For a day and a half Charley slept, and Jo watched him with an affectionate solicitude.

Once or twice, becoming anxious, because of the heavy breathing and the motionless sleep, he had forced open the teeth, and poured a little broth between.
Just before dawn on the second morning, worn out and heavy with slumber, Jo lay down by the piled-up fire and dropped into a sleep that wrapped him like a blanket, folding him away into a drenching darkness.
For a time there was a deep silence, troubled only by Jo's deep breathing, which seemed itself like the pulse of the silence.

Charley appeared not to be breathing at all.

He was lying on his back, seemingly lifeless.

Suddenly on the snug silence there was a sharp sound.