rplexity grew
rather than lessened on his face. She saw that there was not only a
gash in the left temple, but a furrow on the right side of his head, a
swollen red streak where the hair had been burned away. And the black
stains on the handkerchief, and the revolver clutched in his hand.

"Philip!" she said softly, reproachfully.

"I don't understand!" he reiterated, and closed his eyes.

She studied him, and the place where he lay, and the dead pony; the
two wounds in his head, the bloody handkerchief--And it was only
partly clear to her. He had fallen, and been hurt; but Philip, as she
knew him, would have made nothing of that cut on his temple. Why,
then, had he abandoned the pursuit, and tried to kill himself?

A groan escaped him.

"What is it, Philip?" she asked.

"You're hurting me!" he answered, opening his eyes again.

"Hurting you?" she exclaimed. "No! Where?"

"My leg's broken."

With a sharp cry she moved away from him, and saw that in her
eagerness she had pressed against his right leg. For just a moment she
was so concerned with the pain she had caused him that she did not
realize the full significance of his answer. Then it came to her with
a shock. She looked slowly around her: at the black forest on three
sides of the little meadow; at the cliff on the other; at the terrible
trail down which she had come, she scarce knew how; and at the storm
clouds on Thunder Mountain.

He saw the thought in her face.

"You see, it's no use!" he said. "With a broken leg."

She met his eyes with a clear and steady gaze; and smiled. And that
look he could not read.

"Now, then, Philip!" she said at length, rising quietly to her feet.
"I'll go to work."

"To work?" he repeated.

"Of course!" she replied, with brave lightness. "There's a lot to do.
First, there's your leg."

"Yes, it's broken," he answered sardonically.

"We'll mend it. And the cut on your head needs to be dressed. And I'm
dreadfully hungry, and--"

She stopped, and the smile fled from her face, and the strength ran
from her limbs.

"I told you. It's no use," said Haig.

But she had one resource of courage of which he was unaware: her
faith.

"Well," she answered stoutly, "I've enough in my bundle for one meal
anyhow. After that--who knows?"

"Will you give me a drink of water, please?"

She stooped quickly for her hat, the only vessel she had.

"Look in the roll on my saddle," he said. "Murray put some things
there."