rocks. He was saved. And in his arms
he held Jeanne.

It was day when he began the fight, broad day. And now it was night. He
felt earth, under his feet, and he knew that he had brought Jeanne
ashore. He heard her voice speaking his name; and he was so glad that
he laughed and sobbed like a babbling idiot. It was dark, and he was
tired. He sank down, and he could feel Jeanne's arms striving to hold
him up, and he could still hear her voice. But nothing could keep him
from sleeping. And during that sleep he had visions. Now it was day,
and he saw Jeanne's face over him; again it was night, and he heard
only the roaring of the flood. Again he heard voices, Jeanne's voice
and a man's, and he wondered who the man could be. It was a strange
sleep filled with strange dreams. But at last the dreams seemed to go.
He lost himself. He awoke, and the night had turned into day. He was in
a tent, and the sun was gleaming on the outside. It had been a curious
dream, and he sat up astonished.

There was a man sitting beside him. It was Pierre.

"Thank God, M'sieur!" he heard. "We have been waiting for this. You are
saved!"

"Pierre!" he gasped.

Memory returned to him. He was awake. He felt weak, but he knew that
what he saw was not the vision of a dream.

"I came the day after you went through the rapids," explained Pierre,
seeing his amazement. "You saved Jeanne. She was not hurt. But you were
badly bruised, M'sieur, and you have been in a fever."

"Jeanne--was not--hurt?"

"No. She cared for you until I came. She is sleeping now."

"I have not been this way--very long, have I, Pierre?"

"I came yesterday," said Pierre. He bent over Philip, and added: "You
must remain quiet for a little longer, M'sieur. I have brought you a
letter from M'sieur Gregson, and when you read that I will have some
broth made for you."

Philip took the letter and opened it as Pierre went quietly out of the
tent. Gregson had written him but a few lines. He wrote:

MY DEAR PHIL,--I hope you'll forgive me. But I'm tired of this mess. I
was never cut out for the woods, and so I'm going to dismiss myself,
leaving all best wishes behind for you. Go in and fight. You're a devil
for fighting, and will surely win. I'll only be in the way. So I'm
going back with the ship, which leaves in three or four days. Was going
to tell you this on the night you disappeared. Am sorry I couldn't
shake hands with you before I left. Write and let me know how thin