ll my life--bowed down with remorse! Oh, Norah, do, _do_
open your eyes!"

But Norah lay quiet and unresponsive. Where and how had she been
injured? There was no sign of blood, no cut or bruise on the still
white face. Dreda gently moved each arm, but still without awakening
any sign of consciousness. Then, leaning forward, she tried to
straighten out the twisted legs. Instantly there came a flinch and a
groan, the heavy lids rolled upward, and two startled eyes searched her
face.

"What is it? Where am I? What has happened? Oh--the pain! the pain!"

"You are quite safe, dear. You fell from your bicycle. I am afraid you
have hurt your leg; but I'm here. I'll take care of you. You know me,
don't you? You know Dreda Saxon?"

Norah gave a moan of acquiescence. The consciousness of Dreda's near
neighbourhood did not appear to be especially soothing, for she turned
her head restlessly from side to side, and tried to lift herself on her
elbow. The effort failed, and she was obliged to lie back in the same
position, pillowed against Dreda's knee, shivering with mingled cold and
pain.

"My leg! I can't move it. Don't move! Don't shake me! The least
movement is torture. Oh! how shall I ever get home?"

The same thought was beginning to agitate Dreda's mind. Far off, over
the distant fences, the heads of a few riders could be seen bobbing away
out of sight, as the field swept across the sloping meadows. As well
call to the trees themselves as seek to attract their attention! The
cross road was too rough and muddy to be much used in winter; it was
quite possible that not a soul might pass by for the rest of the day.
Dreda shivered at the thought of the long hours of the afternoon during
which Norah might be obliged to lie--cold, cramped, suffering, waiting
for the help which never came; of the horror of darkness falling over
the land.

"I must go for help. There are some farmhouses about half a mile away.
I could get men to carry you back. Could you let me lift you--very,
very gently--and lay you down on the bank?"

But Norah was terrified to face the slightest movement. So long as she
lay perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe, the pain was bearable;
but the moment that she attempted to stir such a darting torture seized
her in its grip that she was ready to face any waiting, any darkness,
rather than allow herself to be moved. She gripped Dreda's hand and the
tears welled up in her eyes.