"Ho! Dick!" cried the youth.

"What, March--March Marston!" exclaimed the Wild Man, springing up,
seizing him by the shoulders, and gazing intently into his face, as if
to assure himself that he was not dreaming.

"Ay, no doubt I'm March Marston; though how you came to find out my name
I don't know--"

"Easy enough that, lad, when you leave your mother's Bible behind ye,"
cried Dick with a wild laugh. "She must be a good mother that o' yours.
Is she alive yet, boy?"

"That is she, an' well, I trust--"

"An' your father," interrupted Dick; "how's he, lad, eh?"

"I don't know," said March, frowning; "he forsook us fourteen years
agone; but it's little good talking o' such matters now, when there's a
poor fellow dyin' outside."

"Dyin'?"

"Ay, so it seems to me. I've brought him to see if ye can stop the
bleedin', but he's fainted, and I can't lift--"

Dick waited for no more, but, hastening out, raised Macgregor in his
arms, and carried him into the inner cave, where Mary was lying sound
asleep on her lowly couch.

"Come, Mary, lass, make way for this poor feller."

The child leaped up, and, throwing a deerskin round her, stepped aside
to allow the wounded man to be placed on her bed. Her eye immediately
fell on March, who stood in the entrance, and she ran to him in
surprise.

"What's de matter, March?"

"Hush, Mary," said Dick in a low voice; "we'll have to speak soft. Poor
Macgregor won't be long for this world, I'm afear'd. Fetch me the box
o' things."

"You know him, then?" whispered March, in surprise.

"Ay, I've often bin to the Mountain Fort and seed him there. See, he's
comin' to. Put that torch more behind me, lad. It'll be better for him
not to see me."

As he spoke the wounded man sighed faintly. Opening his eyes, he said,
"Where am I?"

"Speak to him," whispered Dick, looking over his shoulder at March, who
advanced, and, kneeling at the side of the couch, said--

"You're all right, Mr Macgregor. I've brought you to the hunter's
home. He'll dress your wound and take care of you, so make your mind
easy. But you'll have to keep quiet. You've lost much blood."

The fur trader turned round and seemed to fall asleep, while Dick bound
his wound, and then, leaving him to rest, he and March returned to the
other cave.

During that night Dick seemed in an unaccountably excited state.
Sometimes he sat down by the fire and talked with March in an absent
manner on all kinds of