in her throat. There, immediately
in front of her, flung prone upon the ground with his face on his
arms, was Nick. He did not move at her coming, did not seem to hear.
And the thought came to her to avoid him by a circuit, and yet escape.
But something--a queer, indefinable something--made her pause. Why was
he lying there? Had he been hurt in that awful struggle? Was he--was
he unconscious? Was he--dead?

She fought back the impulse to fly, not for its unworthiness, but
because she felt that she must know.

Trembling, she moved a little nearer to the prostrate, motionless
figure.

"Nick!" she whispered under her breath.

He made no sign.

Her doubt turned to sudden, overmastering fear that pricked her
forward in spite of herself.

"Nick!" she said again, and finding herself close to him she bent and
very slightly touched his shoulder.

He moved then, and she almost gasped with relief. He turned his head
sharply without raising himself, and she saw the grim lines of his
lean cheek and jaw.

"That you, Muriel?" he said, speaking haltingly, spasmodically. "I'm
awfully sorry. Fact is--I'm not well. I shall be--better--directly. Go
back, won't you?"

He broke off, and lay silent, his hands clenched as if he were in
pain.

Muriel stood looking down at him in consternation. It was her chance
to escape--a chance that might never occur again--but she had no
further thought of taking it.

"What is it?" she asked him timidly, "Can I--do anything?"

And then she suddenly saw what was the matter. It burst upon her--a
startling revelation. Possibly the sight of those skeleton fists
helped her to enlightenment. She turned swiftly and sped back to their
camping ground.

In thirty seconds or less, she was back again and stooping over him
with a piece of brown bread in her hand.

"Eat this," she ordered, in a tone of authority.

Nick's face was hidden again. He seemed to be fighting with himself.
His voice came at length, muffled and indistinct.

"No, no! Take it away! I'll have a drain of brandy. And I've got some
tobacco left."

Muriel stooped lower. She caught the words though they were scarcely
audible. She laid her hand upon his arm, stronger in the moment's
emergency than she had been since leaving the fort.

"You are to eat it," she said very decidedly. "You shall eat it. Do
you hear, Nick? I know what is the matter with you. You are starving.
I ought to have seen it before."

Nick uttered a shaky lau