es. Drawing the bridles over the
horses' heads, she proceeded to fasten them to a couple of trees, not
without some trouble, for her own horse was excited and nervous from the
sharp gallop; but at last she succeeded, and, gathering her habit in one
hand, she ran quickly to Alexander's side.

There he lay, quite unconscious, and so pale that she thought he might
be dead. His head was bare, and his hat, crumpled and broken, lay in the
path, some distance behind him. There was a dark mark on the right side
of his forehead, high up and half covered by his silky brown hair.
Hermione knelt down and tried to lift his head upon her knee. But his
body was heavy, and she was not very strong. She dragged him with
difficulty to the side of the path, and raised his shoulders a little
against the bank. She felt for his pulse, but there was no motion in the
lifeless veins, nor could she decide whether he breathed or not. Utterly
without means of reviving him, for she had not so much as a bottle of
salts in the pocket of her saddle, she kneeled over him, and wiped his
pale forehead with her handkerchief, and blew gently on his face. She
was pale herself, and was beginning to be frightened, though she had
good nerves. Nevertheless she took courage, feeling sure that we should
appear in five minutes at the latest.

It was clear that in galloping by her side at full speed Alexander's
head had struck violently against a heavy branch, which grew lower than
the rest. His eyes had been turned on her, and he had not seen the
danger. The branch was so placed that Hermione, lowering her head to
avoid the leaves, as she looked straight before, had passed under it in
safety; whereas her cousin must have struck full upon the thickest part,
three or four feet nearer to the tree. At the pace they were riding, the
blow might well have been fatal; and as the moments passed and the
injured man showed no signs of life, Hermione's heart beat faster and
her face grew whiter. Her first thought was of his mother, and a keen,
sharp fear shot through her as she thought of the dreadful moment when
Madame Patoff must be told; but the next instant brought her a feeling
of far deeper horror. He had been hurt almost while speaking words of
love to her; he had struck his head because he was looking at her
instead of before him, and it was in some measure her fault, for she had
urged the speed of that foolish race. She bent down over him, and the
tears started to he