“To fetch a pail of water.” He stopped, and then it suddenly occurred to him that after all there was no reason for his being bullied by this tall, good-looking girl, even if he HAD saved her. He gave a little laugh, and added mischievously, “Just like Jack and Jill, you know.”
“What?” she said sharply, bending her black brows at him.
“Jack and Jill,” he returned carelessly; “I broke my crown, you know, and YOU,”—he did not finish.
She stared at him, trying to keep her face and her composure; but a smile, that on her imperious lips he thought perfectly adorable, here lifted the corners of her mouth, and she turned her face aside. But the smile, and the line of dazzling little teeth it revealed, were unfortunately on the side toward him. Emboldened by this, he went on, “I couldn't think what had happened. At first I had a sort of idea that part of a mule's pack had fallen on top of me,—blankets, flour, and all that sort of thing, you know, until”—
Her smile had vanished. “Well,” she said impatiently, “until?”
“Until I touched you. I'm afraid I gave you a shock; my hand was dripping from the spring.”
She colored so quickly that he knew she must have been conscious at the time, and he noticed now that the sleeve of her cloak, which had been half torn off her bare arm, was pinned together over it. When and how had she managed to do it without his detecting the act?
“At all events,” she said coldly, “I'm glad you have not received greater injury from—your mule pack.”
“I think we've both been very lucky,” he said simply.
She did not reply, but remained looking furtively at the narrow trail. Then she listened. “I thought I heard voices,” she said, half rising.