"
"A long thorn might have entered my brain," I said, "from the way
it pains. Feel my forehead, Rima; is it very hot and dry?"
She did as I asked, touching me lightly with her little cool
hand. "No, senor, not hot, but warm and moist," she said.
"Thank Heaven for that!" I said. "Poor girl! And you followed
me through the wood in all that terrible storm! Ah, if I could
lift my bruised arm I would take your hand to kiss it in
gratitude for so great a service. I owe you my life, sweet
Rima--what shall I do to repay so great a debt?"
The old man chuckled as if amused, but the girl lifted not her
eyes nor spoke.
"Tell me, sweet child," I said, "for I cannot realize it yet; was
it really you that saved the serpent's life when I would have
killed it--did you stand by me in the wood with the serpent lying
at your feet?"
"Yes, senor," came her gentle answer.
"And it was you I saw in the wood one day, lying on the ground
playing with a small bird?"
"Yes, senor."
"And it was you that followed me so often among the trees,
calling to me, yet always hiding so that I could never see you?"
"Yes, senor.
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