had climbed more than an hour, when he suddenly shot ahead
into the darkest part of the woods and gave voice so loudly that they knew
that they had reached the end of their search, and pushed forward
anxiously.

The moonlight could not reach this spot among the trees, so densely
shaded, but the lanterns showed them the old man a short distance from the
path. He was pinned to the wet earth by a limb that had fallen partly
across him. Fortunately, the storm had been unable to twist it entirely
from the tree. Only the outer end of the limb had struck him, but the
tangle of leafy boughs above him was too thick to creep through. His
clothes were drenched, and on the ground beside him, beaten flat by the
storm, lay the bunch of Alpine roses he had climbed so far to find.

He was conscious when the men reached him. The brandy in the flask had
revived him and as they drew him out from under the branches and stretched
the hammock over some poles for a litter, he told them what had happened.
He had been some distance farther up the mountain, and had stopped at a
peasant's hut for some goat's milk. He rested there a long time, never
noticing in the dense shade of the woods that a storm was gathering.

It came upon him suddenly. His head was hurt, and his back. He could not
tell how badly. He had lain so long on the wet ground that he was numb
with cold, but thought he would be better when he was once more resting
warm and dry at the inn.

He stretched out his hand to Hero and feebly patted him, a faint smile
crossing his face. "Thou best of friends," he whispered. "Thou--" Then he
stopped, closing his eyes with a groan. They were lifting him on the
stretcher, and the pain caused by the movement made him faint.

It was a slow journey down the slippery mountain path. The men who carried
him had to pick their steps carefully. At the inn the little cuckoo came
out of the clock in the hall and called eleven, half past, and midnight,
before the even tramp, tramp of approaching feet made the Little Colonel
run to the door for the last time.

"They're comin', mothah," she whispered, with a frightened face, and then
ran back to hide her eyes while the men passed up the steps with their
unconscious burden. She thought the Major was dead, he lay so white and
still. But he had only fainted again on the way, and soon revived enough
to answer the doctor's questions, and send word to the Little Colonel that
she and Hero had saved his life.