ife as well as the lives of
others."

There was a quivering silence, filled only with the sighing of the
wind-harp. The young doctor's hand had closed over hers. She went on in
a lower tone:--

"And surely the man who risks his life to save is braver than he who
risks it to slay."

Startled at her own boldness, she drew away when he tried, with the
slight strength that he had, to draw her to him. They had not spoken to
each other of love. He knew little of what had taken place that night at
Anvil Rock when she had believed that his soul and her heart were
parting with all earthly things. He had not heard what she had said
then, and they had not been left alone together since his hurt until
this morning. There had been many constantly coming and going about the
sick bed during the first days, and to him those days were mere blanks
of suffering and blurs of pain. It was only to-day that he had begun to
regain in a measure the power of his mind and will. If he could but have
had for one instant the old power of his body! He did not know whether
this beautiful, tender young creature beside him was still under promise
to marry another man. There had been no opportunity for any confidential
talk. The name of William Pressley had never been mentioned between
them. The thought of him was like a touch of fire to Paul Colbert, so
burning was the contempt which he felt for this conceited dullard whose
blundering had nearly been his own death. But he could not say anything
of this to her--the fact that she had once been engaged to be married to
the man held him silent. It might be that she was still bound, and yet
there was something in her soft eyes that led him to hope that she was
free--something, at least, which seemed to give him leave to wrest
freedom for her from the strongest that might try to hold her against
her sweet will. If only he were not stretched here, a mere burden, a
clog.

The look in his sunken eyes,--glowing like coals,--the burning words
which she read on his silent lips, made her slip her hands from his and
move hastily away. She went confusedly over to the window and hailed the
sight of the birds on the sill with sudden relief.

"My little feathered family are all here," she said without looking
round. "Can you see the blue jay? He is on the window-sill trying his
best to peep over it at you."

"I hope he is jealous of me," trying to speak lightly.

"He's a great tyrant. He has driven away all the