They sat so long without speaking, the Princess with knees drawn up,
hands clasping them, and eyes bent on the embers into which (for the
Corsican nights are chilly) Marc'antonio now and again cast a fresh
brand--that in time my own eyes began to grow heavy. They were
smarting, too, from the smoke of the burnt wood. Nat had fallen into
a troubled sleep, in which now and again he moaned: and always at the
sound I roused myself to ease his posture or give him to drink from
the pannikin; but, for the rest, I dozed, and must have dozed for
hours.
I started up wide awake at the sound of a footstep beside me, and sat
erect, blinking against the rays of a lantern held close to my eyes.
The Princess held it, and at Nat's head and feet stood Marc'antonio
and Stephanu, in the act of lifting his litter. She motioned that I
should stand up and follow. Marc'antonio and Stephanu fell into file
behind us. Each carried a gun in a sling.
"I will hold the light where the path is difficult," she said
quietly; "but keep a watch upon your feet. In an hour's time we
shall have plenty of light.
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