left to half-rise. Before her eyes shone scores of little
pointed lights. Then her senses passed away, and all went sweetly,
smoothly and soothingly black about her....After ages, there came
faint sounds of running feet. There was a sort of struggle of some
sort, it seemed, in her first returning consciousness. Her first
distinct feeling was one of wonder that Dunwody himself should be
the first to bend over her, and that on his face there should seem
surprise, regret, grief. How could he feign such things? She
pushed at his face, panting, silent.

Jeanne now was there--Jeanne, tearful, excited, wringing her hands,
offering aid; but in spite of Jeanne, Dunwody raised Josephine in
his arms. As he did so he felt her wince. Her arm dropped
loosely. "Good God! It is broken!" he cried. "Oh, why did you do
this? Why did you? You poor girl, you poor girl! And it was all
my fault--my fault!" Then suddenly, "Sally!--Eleazar!" he cried.

They came running now from all sides. Between them they carried
Josephine back to her room and placed her once more upon her couch.

"Saddle up, Eleazar," commanded Dunwody. "Get a
doctor--Jamieson--from St. Genevieve as fast as you can. The
lady's arm is broken."

"Pardon, Monsieur," he began, "but it is far for St. Genevieve.
Me, I have set h'arm before now. Suppose I set heem now, then go
for the doc'?"

"Could you do that?" demanded Dunwody.

"Somehow, yes, me," answered Eleazar. Dunwody nodded. Without
further speech the old man rolled up his sleeves and addressed
himself to his task. Not without skill, he approached the broken
ends of the ulna, which was fractured above the wrist. Having done
this without much difficulty he called out for splints, and when
some pieces of thin wood were brought him he had them shaped to his
needs, adjusted about them his bandage and made all fast. His
patient made no sound of suffering. She only panted, like a
frightened bird held in the hand, although the sobbing of Jeanne
filled the room. The forehead of Dunwody was beaded. He said
nothing, not even when they had finished all they now could do to
make her comfortable.

"_Au revoir_, Mademoiselle," said Eleazar, at length. "I go now
for those doc'."

A moment later the room was cleared, none but Dunwody remaining.
At last, then, they were alone together.

"Go away! Bring me Jeanne!" she cried at him. His lips only
tightened.

"May I not have Jeanne?" she wailed aga