oiled; her
dusky skin was stained with dirt and scratches, and her bosom heaved
riotously as she caught for her breath.

"Take your time, my dear," said Manvers kindly. And she did, by
tumbling into his arms. Here, then, was a situation for the student of
Manners; a brisk discharge of stones from an advancing line of
skirmishers, a strictly impartial crowd of sightseers, a fidgety horse,
and himself embarrassed by a girl in a faint.

He called for help and, getting none, shook his fist at the callous
devils who ignored him; he inspected his charge, who looked as pure as
a child in her swoon, all her troubles forgotten and sins blotted out;
he inquired of the skies, as if hopeful that the ravens, as of old,
might bring him help; at last, seeing nothing else for it, he picked up
the girl in both arms and pitched her on to the saddle. There, with
some adjusting, he managed to prop her while he led the horse slowly
away. He had to get the reins in his teeth before he had gone ten
yards. The retreat began.

It was within two hours of noon, or nothing had saved him from a
retirement as harassing as Sir John Moore's. It was the sun, not
ravens, that came to his help. Meantime the girl had recovered herself
somewhat, and, when they were out of sight of the town and its
inhabitants, showed him that she had by sliding from the saddle and
standing firmly on her feet.

"Hulloa!" said Manvers. "What's the matter now? Do you think you can
walk back? You can't, you know." He addressed her in his best
Castilian. "I am afraid you are hurt. Let me help----" but she held
him off with a stiffening arm, while she wiped her face with her
petticoat, and put herself into some sort of order.

She did it deftly and methodically, with the practised hands of a woman
used to the public eye. She might have been an actress at the wings,
about to go on. Nor would she look at him or let him see that she was
aware of his presence until all was in order--her hair twisted into the
red handkerchief, the neck of her dress pinned together, her torn skirt
nicely hung. Her coquetry, her skill in adjusting what seemed past
praying for, her pains with herself, were charming to see and very
touching. Manvers watched her closely and could not deny her beauty.

She was a vivid beauty, fiercely coloured, with her tawny gold hair,
sunburnt skin, and jade-green, far-seeing eyes, her coiled crimson
handkerchief and blue-green gown. She was fine