After removing the saddles, he followed the mulatto girl into the hut, and I could hear the murmur of their voices.

I endeavored to address Eloise, seeking thus to awaken her to some sense of my presence, but she merely smiled meaninglessly, leaned her head wearily back against the poles and closed her eyes.
It was a poor meal enough, although it sufficed to dull hunger, and yield us some strength.

Eloise succeeded in choking down a few morsels, but drank thirstily.

It was pitiful to watch her, and to mark the constant effort she was making to force the return of memory.

Her eyes, dull, uncomprehending, wandered continually from face to face in our little group, but no flash of intelligence lighted up their depths.