The night was cold, but the circling wall of trees sheltered the opening, and the fire in the center radiated a grateful heat in which they basked.

The scholar, Mr.
Pennypacker, rested his face upon his hands, and he, too, was dreaming as he stared into the blaze.

Paul, his blanket wrapped around him and his head pillowed upon soft boughs, was asleep already.

Ross and Sol dozed.
But Henry neither slept nor wished to do so.

His gaze shifted from the red coals to the silver disk of the sky.