ed to the pommel of the saddle,
and freed the unfortunate matron. The horse, feeling relieved of his
burden, gave a desperate bound, and rushed off down the street.

Florence shrieked, and sprung to her father's side. Mary was bending
over the moaning woman, but turned suddenly, and saw her uncle
stretched at Florence's feet. He was insensible, and a stream of
blood oozed from his lips. They raised his head, and motioned to
the Mexicans, that now gathered round, for water; some was hastily
procured, and then Mary entreated one of them to go for Dr. Bryant: as
she spoke, the tramp of hoofs caused her to look up, and she perceived
him urging his horse toward them. He flung the reins to a man who
stood near, and bent over the prostrate form.

"There is some internal injury, I see no outward wound; how did this
happen?"

Florence briefly explained the manner in which her father received a
kick on the chest. Happily, they were near their own home, and, with
the assistance of two men, Dr. Bryant carefully bore him in, and laid
him on a couch near the open window. A restorative was administered,
and soon the sufferer opened his eyes. The flow of blood had ceased,
but he lay quite exhausted.

The physician examined the wounded place, and assured Florence there
was no fracture.

"I am afraid some blood-vessel is ruptured?" said she, anxiously.

"It is only a small one, I hope, but cannot tell certainly for several
days. He must be perfectly quiet; the least excitement might prove
fatal, by causing a fresh hemorrhage."

Nearly a week passed, and one evening Mary followed the physician as
he left the house: he heard her step, and turned. His usually laughing
countenance was grave and anxious; but he strove to seem cheerful.

"Doctor, I wish to know what you think of my uncle's case; we are
afraid it is more serious than you at first pronounced it?"

"It is better that you should know the worst. I am pained to grieve
you, but candor compels me to say, that a fatal injury has been
inflicted. I hoped for the best, but an examination this evening
confirmed my fears."

Mary sobbed bitterly and long. Dr. Bryant sought not to comfort her
by exciting false hopes, but paced up and down the gravel-walk beside
her.

"You do not fear a rapid termination of the disorder?" she said at
last, in a low, trembling tone.

"He may linger some days, but I do not think it probable that he
will."

"Florry, Florry! what is to become of