places in preparation for the hardest task of all--the carrying
of her injured companion down to the shore.

That, as she knew, was bound to be a terribly painful thing for him,
but there was no other way, and harsh necessity made her ruthless. She
did what she could with an improvised sling, and helped him to stand on
his uninjured leg. The pain he endured was shown in his white face, and
in the bitten under lip, which trickled red. She was afraid that he was
about to faint, but he recovered himself and three-quarters of a minute
later, she was carrying him pick-a-back to the lakeside.

Twice she heard a groan torn from him, but she set her teeth, and
pointed on to the first resting place, where, as gently as she could,
she set him on the trunk of a fallen tree which, supported by its under
branches, lay waist high. Then she turned round and looked at Stane. He
was in a state verging on collapse. Instantly she felt for his service
water-bottle which she had previously filled with brandy and water, and
pouring out some of the liquid she held it towards him.

"Drink," she said, "all of it."

He did so, and when they had rested five minutes, they started again
and, after halting twice more, reached the shore, where she set him
down on a convenient rock, below which she had piled blankets to
support his injured leg. Then for the moment quite overdone, she
collapsed on the sand, one hand on her jumping heart, the other on her
throbbing head. It was a little time before either of them could speak,
and it was the man who did so first.

"Miss Yardely, take a little brandy. I implore you!"

Helen looked up, nodded without speaking, and with shaking hands poured
out a little of the spirit for herself. After a time her breath came
back, and she rose to her feet.

"You are mortal heavy," she said with an attempt at gaiety. "You were
like the old man of the sea on my back.... I hope your leg is all
right?"

"Painful! But that is to be expected, and it can't be helped." A drift
of smoke came down in the wind and made him cough, and he looked round
to mark the progress of the fire. "We haven't much of a margin, Miss
Yardely."

"No," she answered, "I must get busy. Now tell me what to do!"

Whilst waiting for her to recover he had noted numerous sun-dried poles
scattered about the beach, and those he pointed to.

"Get about seven of those, Miss Yardely, as near equal length as you
can. Gather them as close to the water's