Yet very deep down in her soul there still lurked the memory of that past.

In the daytime she could put it from her, stifle it, crowd it out with a multitude of tasks; but at night in her dreams that memory would not always be denied.

In her dreams the old vision returned--tender, mocking, elusive--a sunburnt face with eyes of vivid blue that looked into hers, smiling and confident with that confidence that is only possible between spirits that are akin.

She would feel again the pressure of a man's lips on the hollow of her arm--that spot which still bore the tiny mark which once had been a snake-bite.

He had come to her in her hour of need, and though he was a fugitive from justice, she would never forget his goodness, his readiness to serve her, his chivalry.