I lived and grew stronger. But I dared not move in
case I might disturb her.

She rose at last and bent over my bandaged head. She scrutinised my
face. As she leaned closer, I caught the fragrance of her breath and
the perfume of her hair. And then,--God forgive me for my deceit!
although, for such an ecstasy I would go on being deceitful to the end
of time,--she stooped lower and her full, soft, warm lips touched mine.

I raised my eyelids to her blushing loveliness. I tried to smile, but
she put her finger up demanding silence. She fed me again and new
strength flowed through my veins.

What questions I asked her then! How did I get here? What day of the
week was it? Was Joe Clark dead?

"Hush, hush!" she chided. "You must go on sleeping."

"But I can't sleep forever. Already I have been asleep for years," I
complained feebly.

"Hush, then, and I will tell you."

She sat down by my bedside and I lay still and quiet as she went over
what she knew.

"This is Saturday evening. I found you, lying unconscious,--dead as I
thought,--out on the path, as I went for fresh water yesterday morning.

"I brought you here. I did not know what had befallen you. I was
afraid you had been set upon by the thieves who tried to rob Jake
Meaghan; but from what you have just said, it was Superintendent Clark
who attacked you."

I nodded.

"Was he not lying there beside me,--dead?" I asked.

"Hush! There was no one near you; but the place looked as if a herd of
buffalo had thundered over it."

I was puzzled, but I tried to laugh and the attempt hurt me.

"How did you get me here?" I interrupted.

"Now!" she said, "if you speak again, I will tell you nothing.

"I ran home for blankets. I got two poles and fixed the blankets to
these. I rolled you over on to my improvised stretcher and trailed you
here, Indian fashion. It was easy as easy. Mrs. Malmsbury was abed
and I did not wish to disturb her just then. Later, when I got you
here, she helped me to put you to bed.

"Oh! I am so glad that man did not murder you."

"But it would not have been murder, Mary," I put in. "It was a fair
fight."

"But why should two, strong, clean-living young men want to fight?
Don't answer me, George," she added quickly, "for I am merely
cogitating. Men seem such strange animals to us women."

I smiled.

Other questions I asked, but Mary declined to answer and I had,
perforce, to lie still, with nothing to do bu