"Most certainly. It was careless of me not to have examined its
interior more thoroughly."

"Then why do you grumble because I found the lamp?"

"I did not mean any such thing. I am sorry."

"I think you are horrid. If you want to wash you will find the water
over there. Don't wait. The ham will be frizzled to a cinder."

Unlucky Jenks! Was ever man fated to incur such unmerited odium? He
savagely laved his face and neck. The fresh cool water was delightful
at first, but it caused his injured nail to throb dreadfully. When he
drew near to the fire he experienced an unaccountable sensation of
weakness. Could it be possible that he was going to faint? It was too
absurd. He sank to the ground. Trees, rocks, and sand-strewn earth
indulged in a mad dance. Iris's voice sounded weak and indistinct. It
seemed to travel in waves from a great distance. He tried to brush away
from his brain these dim fancies, but his iron will for once failed,
and he pitched headlong downwards into darkness.

When he recovered the girl's left arm was round his neck. For one
blissful instant he nestled there contentedly. He looked into her eyes
and saw that she was crying. A gust of anger rose within him that he
should be the cause of those tears.

"Damn!" he said, and tried to rise.

"Oh! are you better?" Her lips quivered pitifully.