No sleepiness affected her.

There was too much to think of as yet.

Her thoughts returned to the absorbing subject of the day, and with these thoughts, random at first, a pale, wan figure rose before her inner eye,--a form well, only too well, known to her; that of Say Koitza.

She saw that figure as she had seen it not long ago,--crouching before that very fire in bitterest despair, bewailing her own lot, lamenting her imminent untimely death, and yet without one single word of reproach for her who had beguiled her into doing what now might result in the destruction of both.

Was not that thin, trembling woman her victim?
Was she not the one who had led Say astray?
The Indian knows not what conscience is, but he feels it all the same; and Shotaye, ignorant of the nature of remorse, nevertheless grew sad.
Indeed she it was who had beguiled the poor frail creature,--she it was who had caused her to perform an act which, however immaterial in fact, still entailed punishment of the severest kind according to Indian notions and creed.