snow beside her steaming horse.

He never moved, he was so dead beat too.

Oh, lame and impotent conclusion of a vigorous exploit! Masculine up to
the crowning point, and then to go and spoil all with "woman's
weakness"!

"N. B. This is rote sarcasticul," as Artemus the Delicious says. Woman's
weakness! If Solomon had planned and Samson executed, they could not
have served her turn better than this most seasonable swooning did; for,
lo! at her fall, the doughty combatants uttered a yell of dismay, and
there was an indiscriminate rush towards the fair sufferer.

But the surgeon claimed his rights.

"This is my business," said he, authoritatively. "Do not crowd on her,
Gentlemen: give her air."

Whereupon the duellists and seconds stood respectfully aloof, in a mixed
group, and watched with eager interest and pity.

The surgeon made a hole in the snow, and laid his fair patient's head
low.

"Don't be alarmed," said he; "she has swooned; that is all."

It was all mighty fine to say, "Don't be alarmed." But her face was
ashy, and her lips the color of lead; and she was so like death, they
could not help being terribly alarmed; and now, for the first time, the
duellists felt culprits; and as for fighting, every idea of such a thing
went out of their heads. The rivals now were but rival nurses; and never
did a lot of women make more fuss over a child than all these
bloodthirsty men did over this Amazon _manquee_. They produced their
legendary lore. One's grandmother had told him burnt feathers were the
thing; another, from an equally venerable source, had gathered that
those pink palms must be profanely slapped by the horny hand of
man,--for at no less a price could resuscitation be obtained. The
surgeon scorning all their legends, Griffith and Neville made hasty
rushes with brandy and usquebaugh; but whether to be taken internally or
externally they did not say, nor, indeed, know, but only thrust their
flasks wildly on the doctor; and he declined them loftily. He melted
snow in his hand, and dashed it hard in her face, and put salts close to
her pretty little nostrils. And this he repeated many times without
effect.

But at last her lips began to turn from lead color to white, and then
from white to pink, and her heavenly eyes to open again, and her mouth
to murmur things pitiably small and not bearing on the matter in hand.

Her cheek was still colorless, when her consciousness came back, and she
found she was