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Stout, Rex, 1886-1975

"Under the Andes"


Many hours had passed in this tomblike apathy. Two or three
times I had advised Desiree to lie down to rest and, if possible,
to sleep. She had refused, but I became insistent, and Harry
added his voice to my own. Then, to please us, she consented; we
arranged the cover on the granite couch and made her as
comfortable as possible.
In five minutes she was fast asleep. Harry stood a few feet away
from the couch, looking down at her. I spoke to him, in a low
tone:
"And you must rest too, Hal. One of us must remain on watch;
I'll take it first and call you when I feel drowsy. It may be a
needless precaution, but I don't care to wake up and find myself
in the condition of our friend yonder."
He wanted to take the first watch himself, but I insisted, and he
arranged our ponchos on the ground, and soon he too was sleeping
easily and profoundly. I looked from him to Desiree with a smile,
and reflection that Socrates himself could not have met
misfortune with more sublime composure.
It was possible that the stone curtain across the doorway could
be raised noiselessly, and that made it necessary to keep my eyes
fastened on it almost continuously.


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