face a little drawn as with
pain, she clung instinctively to his arm, with hands that seemed to him
the most maddening that he had ever seen. Then, after several minutes
which were very agreeable to him in spite of his anxiety, she appeared
to pull herself together with a mighty effort. She moved away from his
clasp, sat up straight, and opened upon him great eyes of pain and
gratitude.

"Oh, thank you Monsieur!" she said simply. "I'm afraid I have been
very troublesome. But, indeed, I thought I was going to die."

"But what is the matter, Mademoiselle? Tell me, and let me help you."

She sat cringing and setting her teeth hard. He noticed how white were
the teeth, how scarlet the full lips.

"It is just my heart," she said. "I was looking through the bushes to
see who was coming. Something startled me, I think; and the pain
clutched at my heart so I could not breathe, and I fell off."

She paused, to moan a little softly and catch her breath. Before he
could say anything she went on:

"It's better now, but it hurts horribly."

"Let me support you, Mademoiselle," he urged with eager courtesy.

But she shrank away from the approaching ministration.

"No, Monsieur, I am better, really. But I must get home as quick as I
can." She rose unsteadily.

The Englishman arose at the same time. The next moment Barbe sank back
again, biting her lips to keep back a cry.

"Oh," she gasped, "I can't stand it! How can I get home?"

"You must let me see you home, Mademoiselle," said the officer,
authority blending with palpable enthusiasm in his tones.

"You are so good, Monsieur," she murmured gratefully. "But I could not
think of taking you away back so far, almost to the village. It will
spoil your afternoon's sport."

The sympathy of the Englishman's face gave way to amusement, and he
hastened to assure her of her mistake.

"Not at all, indeed, Mademoiselle. It will be quite as much my
pleasure as my duty to see you safely home. Your misfortune--if not
too serious--is my great good fortune!"

Thanking him with a look, Barbe arose weakly and took the proffered
arm. At first the homeward journey was very slow; but as the afternoon
deepened, and the miles gathered between the English commandant and
Jean's little ship, the girl began to let herself recover. By this
time she felt that there was no danger of her escort leaving her one
minute before he was obliged to; and she knew that now, for this nig