The air was cool and sweet.

He leaned back until his head rested against the rock, and there fell upon him the fatal temptation to close his eyes and snatch a few minutes of the slumber which had not come to him during the early hours of the night.

He was in a doze, oblivious to movement and the softer sounds of the night, when a cry pierced the struggling consciousness of his brain like the sting of a dart.

In an instant he was on his feet.
In the red glow of the log stood Joanne in her long white night robe.

She seemed to be swaying when he first saw her.