king his cap off
and putting snow on his head; then the doctor--he knew him now--said:

"Let me take him!"

A dull, throbbing ache came into his head, and as this grew the noise of
voices became more distinct, and he could hear sobbing. Then he opened
his lids, but the glare of the sunlight struck them shut again; he saw
only Maud's face, agonized, white, and wet with tears, looking down into
his.

They raised him a little more, and he again opened his eyes on the
circle of hushed and excited men thronging about him. He saw Brann, with
wild, scared face, standing in his cutter and peering over the heads of
the crowd.

"How do you feel now?" asked the doctor.

"Can you hear us? Albert, do you know me?" called the girl.

His lips moved stiffly, but he smiled a little, and at length whispered
slowly, "Yes; I guess--I'm all--right."

"Put him into my cutter; Maud, get in here, too," the doctor commanded.
The crowd opened as the doctor and Troutt helped the wounded man into
the sleigh. The pain in his head grew worse, but Albert's perception of
things sharpened in proportion; he closed his eyes to the sun, but in
the shadow of Maud's breast opened them again and looked up at her. He
felt a vague, child-like pleasure in knowing that she was holding him in
her arms; he thought of his mother--"how it would frighten her if she
knew."

"Hello!" called a breathless, hearty voice, "what the deuce y' been
doing with my pardner? Bert, old fellow, are you there?" Hartley asked,
clinging to the edge of the moving cutter, and peering into his friend's
face. Albert smiled.

"I'm here--what there is left of me," he replied, faintly.

"Glory! How did it happen?" he asked of the girl.

"I don't know--I couldn't see--we ran into a culvert," replied Maud.

"Weren't you hurt?"

"Not a bit. I stayed in the cutter."

Albert groaned, and tried to rise, but the girl gently yet firmly
restrained him. Hartley was walking beside the doctor, talking loudly.
"It was a devilish thing to do; the scoundrel ought to be jugged!"

Albert tried again to rise. "I'm bleeding yet; I'm soaking you; let me
get up!"

The girl shuddered, but remained firm.

"No; we're 'most home."

She felt no shame, but a certain exaltation as she looked into the faces
about her. She gazed unrecognizingly upon her nearest girl friends, and
they, gazing upon her white face and unresponsive eyes, spoke in awed
whispers.

At the gate the crowd gathered and wa