s with ample food. What need have we
of money?"

"Pardon, Mother," exclaimed Harry penitently, "I did not mean to offend
you. But if you do not need money, there are perhaps other things that
you or your son may be glad to have, and you must let me show my
gratitude to you in some way, for I cannot forget that to you and your
son I owe my life."

"Ay, ay; ay, ay; that's as may be," muttered the old creature, as though
speaking to herself. "There," she added, as, having completed the
dressing of Escombe's injuries, she secured the last bandage, "that is
done. Now, more medicine, and then more sleep." And therewith she
bustled away into the shadows, returning, a few minutes later, with a
generous draught that foamed and sparkled in the goblet like champagne,
but left a taste of sickly sweetness upon the palate. As the invalid
swallowed the dose a sensation of great ease and comfort permeated his
entire system, and the next moment he was asleep.

When Harry next awoke, feeling very much better, he saw that his
hostess, and a fine, stalwart, copper-coloured young Indian whom he took
to be her son, were seated at a roughly framed table, at some little
distance from his cot, taking a meal by the light of an earthenware
lamp, and conversing together in low tones in a language with which he
was unfamiliar. From the manner in which the pair glanced in his
direction from time to time he rather suspected that he was the subject
of their conversation, which was being conducted with much earnestness,
especially by the old woman. That she was maintaining a very keen watch
upon her patient was perfectly evident, for at Harry's first movement
she sprang to her feet and, snatching up the lamp, rapidly approached
his bedside, peering down into his eyes with the same intense eagerness
that she had before exhibited, muttering and mumbling to herself
excitedly the while.

"Ah, ah!" she exclaimed, in tones of much satisfaction, "so you are
awake again at last! You have slept well and long, my friend--slept all
through the night without a movement. And your skin is cool, too," she
continued, laying her skinny hand on Harry's forehead; "cool and moist;
no fever. But what of the pain? Is it still severe as ever?"

"The pain!" exclaimed Hal, moving himself slightly. "Why, no, it seems
almost gone. What magic is this?"

"No magic at all," chuckled the quaint old creature, "but merely a poor
old Indian woman's skill in simples