"You see he got a fall," answered the guide, before either of the gentlemen could speak, "a-coming over that rough pass on the mountain; but I think he's only stunted like."
"I am afraid his arm is broken," said the elder gentleman.
The lady hurried toward the injured man; her face was turned away, so that none of the party could see how ghastly it became. She bent over the still form, dextrously cut open the sleeve of his coat with a pair of scissors which she drew from her pocket, and took the injured limb between her trembling hands.
"It is only a sprain," she said; "the agony and the shock have been too much for him."
"He bore it very well at first," said the gentleman who had followed her; "but fainted quite suddenly, just as we got down into the valley."
The lady made him no answer; she directed the guides where to find water and spirits. Going into the house herself, she brought out a large napkin, which she saturated with water, and bound upon the wounded arm.
While she was bending over him, the man gave signs of returning consciousness. She started back, and shrouded her face completely in the mantle.
"Laurence," called one of his friends, stooping over him, "are you better?"
There was a faint murmur; the injured man raised his head, but it sunk back, and he was insensible again.
"Is there no physician near?" demanded the gentleman. "I am very anxious. He is not strong, like the rest of us."