world, and laid his head upon her
breast.

"I only want--my wife," he said.

CHAPTER XII

FREEDOM

It took him many days to climb back up that slope down which he had
slipped so swiftly in those few awful hours. Very slowly, with painful
effort, but with unfailing purpose, he made his arduous way. And through
it all Puck never left his side.

Alert and vigilant, very full of courage, very quick of understanding,
she drew him, leaning on her, back to a life that had become strangely
new to them both. They talked very little, for Merryon's strength was
terribly low, and Macfarlane, still scarcely believing in the miracle
that had been wrought under his eyes, forbade all but the simplest and
briefest speech--a prohibition which Puck strenuously observed; for
Puck, though she knew the miracle for an accomplished fact, was not
taking any chances.

"Presently, darling; when you're stronger," was her invariable answer to
any attempt on his part to elicit information as to the events that had
immediately preceded his seizure. "There's nothing left to fret about.
You're here--and I'm here. And that's all that matters."

If her lips quivered a little over the last assertion, she turned her
head away that he might not see. For she was persistently cheery in his
presence, full of tender humour, always undismayed.

He leaned upon her instinctively. She propped him so sturdily, with a
strength so amazing and so steadfast. Sometimes she laughed softly at
his weakness, as a mother might laugh at the first puny efforts of her
baby to stand alone. And he knew that she loved his dependence upon her,
even in a sense dreaded the time when his own strength should reassert
itself, making hers weak by comparison.

But that time was coming, slowly yet very surely. The rains were
lessening at last, and the cholera-fiend had been driven forth. Merryon
was to go to the Hills on sick leave for several weeks. Colonel Davenant
had awaked to the fact that his life was a valuable one, and his
admiration for Mrs. Merryon was undisguised. He did not altogether
understand her behaviour, but he was discreet enough not to seek that
enlightenment which only one man in the world was ever to receive.

To that man on the night before their departure came Puck, very pale and
resolute, with shining, unwavering eyes. She knelt down before him with
small hands tightly clasped.

"I'm going to say something dreadful, Billikins," she said.

He