“But it is impossible,” said Doctor Ruysdael impatiently. “She is a mere child—a country girl—ignorant of such habits.”
“Humph! the peasants in the Tyrol try it on themselves after noticing the effect on the coats of cattle.”
Doctor Ruysdael started. A recollection of the sleek draught horse flashed upon him. He rose and hastily re-entered the patient's room. In a few moments he returned. “Do you think I could remove her at once to the mountains?” he said gravely.
“Yes, with care and a return to graduated doses of the same poison; you know it's the only remedy just now,” answered the other.
By noon the next day the doctor and his patient had returned to the cabin, but Ruysdael himself carried the helpless Liberty Jones to the spring and deposited her gently beside it. “You may drink now,” he said gravely.
The girl did so eagerly, apparently imbibing new strength from the sparkling water. The doctor meanwhile coolly filled a phial from the same source, and made a hasty test of the contents by the aid of some other phials from his case. The result seemed to satisfy him. Then he said gravely:
“And THIS is the spring you had discovered?”
The girl nodded.
“And you and the cattle have daily used it?”
She nodded again wonderingly. Then she caught his hand appealingly.