natched her, sprang through the water and up the
landing. I stayed behind; as the boat recoiled, pushed in a little,
fastened the anchor and threw it over, and then followed.
Our house was next the landing, and there Dan had carried Faith; and
when I reached it, a great fire was roaring up the chimney, and the
tea-kettle hung over it, and he was rubbing Faith's feet hard enough to
strike sparks. I couldn't understand exactly what made Dan so fiercely
earnest, for I thought I knew just how he felt about Faith; but
suddenly, when nothing seemed to answer, and he stood up and our eyes
met, I saw such a haggard, conscience-stricken face that it all rushed
over me. But now we had done what we could, and then I felt all at once
as if every moment that I effected nothing was drawing out murder.
Something flashed by the window, I tore out of the house and threw up my
arms, I don't know whether I screamed or not, but I caught the doctor's
eye, and he jumped from his gig and followed me in. We had a siege of
it. But at length, with hot blankets, and hot water, and hot brandy
dribbled down her throat, a little pulse began to play upon Faith's
temple and a little pink to beat up and down her cheek, and she opened
her pretty dark eyes and lifted herself and wrung the water out of her
braids; then she sank back.
"Faith! Faith! speak to me!" said Dan, close in her ear. "Don't you know
me?"
"Go away," she said, hoarsely, pushing his face with her flat wet palm.
"You let the sail take me over and drown me, while you kissed Georgie's
hand."
I flung my hand before her eyes.
"Is there a kiss on those fingers?" I cried, in a blaze. "He never
kissed my hands or my lips. Dan is your husband, Faith!"
For all answer Faith hid her head and gave a little moan. Somehow I
couldn't stand that; so I ran and put my arms round her neck and lifted
her face and kissed it, and then we cried together. And Dan, walking the
floor, took up his hat and went out, while she never cast a look after
him. To think of such a great strong nature and such a powerful depth of
feeling being wasted on such a little limp rag! I cried as much for that
as anything. Then I helped Faith into my bedroom, and running home, I
got her some dry clothes,--after rummaging enough, dear knows! for you'd
be more like to find her nightcap in the tea-caddy than elsewhere,--and
I made her a corner on the settle, for she was afraid to stay in the
bedroom, and when she was comf
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