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He awoke with a strange sense of heat and suffocation, and with difficulty shook off his covering. Rubbing his eyes, he discovered that an extra blanket had in some mysterious way been added in the night; and beneath his head was a pillow he had no recollection of placing there when he went to sleep. By degrees the events of the past night forced themselves upon his benumbed faculties, and he sat up. The sun was riding high; the door of the cabin was open. Stretching himself, he staggered to his feet, and looked in through the yawning crack at the hinges. He rubbed his eyes again. Was he still asleep, and followed by a dream of yesterday? For there, even in the very attitude he remembered to have seen her sitting at her luncheon on the previous day, with her knitting on her lap, sat Mrs. Sol Saunders! What did it mean? or had she really been sitting there ever since, and all the events that followed only a dream?

A hand was laid upon his arm; and, turning, he saw the murky black eyes and Indian-inked beard of Sol beside him. That gentleman put his finger on his lips with a theatrical gesture, and then, slowly retreating in the well-known manner of the buried Majesty of Denmark, waved him, like another Hamlet, to a remoter part of the ledge. This reached, he grasped Rand warmly by the hand, shook it heartily, and said, “It’s all right, my boy; all right!”

“But–” began Rand. The hot blood flowed to his cheeks: he stammered, and stopped short.

“It’s all right, I say! Don’t you mind! We’ll pull you through.”

“But, Mrs. Sol! what does she–“

“Rosey has taken the matter in hand, sir; and when that woman takes a matter in hand, whether it’s a baby or a rehearsal, sir, she makes it buzz.”

“But how did she know?” stammered Rand.

“How? Well, sir, the scene opened something like this,” said Sol professionally. “Curtain rises on me and Mrs. Sol. Domestic interior: practicable chairs, table, books, newspapers. Enter Dr. Duchesne,–eccentric character part, very popular with the boys,–tells off-hand affecting story of strange woman–one ‘more unfortunate’–having baby in Eagle’s Nest, lonely place on ‘peaks of Snowdon,’ midnight; eagles screaming, you know, and far down unfathomable depths; only attendant, cold-blooded ruffian, evidently father of child, with sinister designs on child and mother.”

“He didn’t say THAT!” said Rand, with an agonized smile.

“Order! Sit down in front!” continued Sol easily. “Mrs. Sol–highly interested, a mother herself–demands name of place. ‘Table Mountain.’ No; it cannot be–it is! Excitement. Mystery! Rosey rises to occasion–comes to front: ‘Some one must go; I–I–will go myself!’ Myself, coming to center: ‘Not alone, dearest; I–I will accompany you!’ A shriek at right upper center. Enter the ‘Marysville Pet.’ ‘I have heard all. ‘Tis a base calumny. It cannot be HE–Randolph! Never!’–‘Dare you accompany us will!’ Tableau.

“Is Miss Euphemia–here?” gasped Rand, practical even in his embarrassment.

“Or-r-rder! Scene second. Summit of mountain–moonlight Peaks of Snowdon in distance. Right–lonely cabin. Enter slowly up defile, Sol, Mrs. Sol, the ‘Pet.’ Advance slowly to cabin. Suppressed shriek from the ‘Pet,’ who rushes to recumbent figure–Left–discovered lying beside cabin-door. ”Tis he! Hist! he sleeps!’ Throws blanket over him, and retires up stage–so.” Here Sol achieved a vile imitation of the “Pet’s” most enchanting stage-manner. “Mrs. Sol advances–Center–throws open door. Shriek! ”Tis Mornie, the lost found!’ The ‘Pet’ advances: ‘And the father is?’–‘Not Rand!’ The ‘Pet’ kneeling: ‘Just Heaven, I thank thee!’ No, it is–‘”

“Hush!” said Rand appealingly, looking toward the cabin.

“Hush it is!” said the actor good-naturedly. “But it’s all right, Mr. Rand: we’ll pull you through.”

Later in the morning, Rand learned that Mornie’s ill-fated connection with the Star Variety Troupe had been a source of anxiety to Mrs. Sol, and she had reproached herself for the girl’s infelicitous debut.

“But, Lord bless you, Mr. Rand!” said Sol, “it was all in the way of business. She came to us–was fresh and new. Her chance, looking at it professionally, was as good as any amateur’s; but what with her relations here, and her bein’ known, she didn’t take. We lost money on her! It’s natural she should feel a little ugly. We all do when we get sorter kicked back onto ourselves, and find we can’t stand alone. Why, you wouldn’t believe it,” he continued, with a moist twinkle of his black eyes; “but the night I lost my little Rosey, of diphtheria in Gold Hill, the child was down on the bills for a comic song; and I had to drag Mrs. Sol on, cut up as she was, and filled up with that much of Old Bourbon to keep her nerves stiff, so she could do an old gag with me to gain time, and make up the ‘variety.’ Why, sir, when I came to the front, I was ugly! And when one of the boys in the front row sang out, ‘Don’t expose that poor child to the night air, Sol,’–meaning Mrs. Sol,–I acted ugly. No, sir, it’s human nature; and it was quite natural that Mornie, when she caught sight o’ Mrs. Sol’s face last night, should rise up and cuss us both. Lord, if she’d only acted like that! But the old lady got her quiet at last; and, as I said before, it’s all right, and we’ll pull her through. But don’t YOU thank us: it’s a little matter betwixt us and Mornie. We’ve got everything fixed, so that Mrs. Sol can stay right along. We’ll pull Mornie through, and get her away from this, and her baby too, as soon as we can. You won’t get mad if I tell you something?” said Sol, with a half-apologetic laugh. “Mrs. Sol was rather down on you the other day, hated you on sight, and preferred your brother to you; but when she found he’d run off and left YOU, you,–don’t mind my sayin’,–a ‘mere boy,’ to take what oughter be HIS place, why, she just wheeled round agin’ him. I suppose he got flustered, and couldn’t face the music. Never left a word of explanation? Well, it wasn’t exactly square, though I tell the old woman it’s human nature. He might have dropped a hint where he was goin’. Well, there, I won’t say a word more agin’ him. I know how you feel. Hush it is.”