Falkner stood for a little space and watched him, following the boyish lines of his cheek on the pillow, from the shadow of the light brown lashes under his closed lids to the lifting of his short upper lip over his white teeth, with his regular respiration.

Only a sharp accenting of the line of nostril and jaw and a faint depression of the temple betrayed his already tried manhood.
The house had long sunk to repose when Falkner returned to the window, and remained looking out upon the storm.

Suddenly he extinguished the light, and passing quickly to the bed laid his hand upon the sleeper.
Lee opened his eyes instantly.
"Are you awake ?" "Perfectly." "Somebody is trying to get into the house!" "Not HIM, eh ?" said Lee gayly.
"No; two men.

Mexicans, I think.

One looks like Manuel." "Ah," said Lee, drawing himself up to a sitting posture.
"Well ?" "Don't you see?
He believes the women are alone." "The dog--d--d hound!" "Speak respectfully of one of my people, if you please, and hand me my derringer.