into? 'Tis a good eight miles to the hospital; and the sooner he's out
of this d--d watering-can business the better chance for him."

Desmond turned to Colonel Mayhew.

"How about the Forest bungalow, sir? Only a couple of miles on, isn't
it? Brodie must be there now; and he's the right sort, if he is a bit of
an anchorite."

"Why, of course. The very thing. He's something of an experimentalist
too. Keeps up a small pharmacy in one of his outhouses. He'll make room
for Lenox like a shot."

"And for me too, I hope. I'm game to sleep anywhere. But I won't leave
Lenox till he's fit to go into Dalhousie."

Colonel Mayhew nodded approval; and the dismal procession set out again;
O'Malley enlivening its progress with highly-coloured reminiscences of
_khud_ accidents he had known, and with incidental attempts at jocularity
that fizzled out like damp fireworks. It was all meant kindly enough.
But Desmond was thinking of both man and wife as he had seen them greet
one another that morning; and an atmosphere of pseudo-hilarity jarred his
nerves like a discord in music. For the man possessed that mingling of
fortitude and delicacy of feeling, which stands revealed in the lives of
so many famous fighters, and may well be termed the hall-mark of heroism.

In due time they came upon the two women, still sitting--drenched and
patient--on their bank of soaked fir-needles; and Desmond hurried forward
to get in a word or two with Quita unobserved. At sight of
him--coatless, mud-bespattered, with torn clothes, and blood-stained face
and hands--Honor could not repress a small sound of dismay. But Quita
saw in his eyes the one thing she wanted; and may surely be forgiven if
she paid small heed to his plight. Her face fell at the details of the
damage done.

"Mayn't I just have a sight of him as he passes us?" she pleaded.

"Better not," he answered kindly, "You have an artist's brain, remember;
and I want you to sleep a little to-night. Trust me to do every mortal
thing I can for him. Honor will see you home, and I'll send a runner in
with news this evening. We'll pull him through between us,--never fear."

She tried to speak her thanks; but failing, put out a hand impulsively to
speak for her; and his enfolding grasp made her feel less lonely, less
desperate than she had felt since the awful moment when her husband
vanished into space. The fact that he was in Desmond's hands seemed a
guarantee that all would g