Francis Lynde

Stranded in Arcady Francis Lynde

AT the half-conscious moment of awakening Prime had a confused impression that hemust have gone to bed leaving the electric lights turned on full-blast. Succeedingimpressions were even more disconcerting. It seemed that he had also gone to bed with hisclothes on; that the bed was unaccountably hard; that the pillow had borrowed thecharacteristics of a pillory. Sitting up to give these chaotic conclusions a chance to clarify themselves, he was stillmore bewildered. That which had figured as the blaze of the neglected electrics resolveditself into the morning sun reflecting dazzlement from the dimpled surface of a woodlandlake. The hard bed proved to be a sandy beach; the pillory pillow a gnarled and twisted treeroot which had given him a crick in his neck. When he put his hand to the cramped neck muscle and moved to escape the bedazzlingsun reflection, the changed point of view gave him a shock. Sitting with her back to a tree ata little distance was a strange young woman-strange in the sense that he was sure he hadnever seen her before. Like himself, she had evidently just awakened, and she was staringat him out of wide-open, slate-gray eyes. In the eyes he saw a vast bewildermentcomparable to his own, something of alarm, and a trace of subconscious embarrassment asshe put her hands to her hair, which was sadly tumbled.