"But you are wounded!" cried Elizabeth. "You cannot."
"Nay, 'tis nothing," he exclaimed; "a flesh wound in the arm and a graze along the chest. When the horse fell he threw me so heavily that it stunned me. When my arm is bound up I'll be all right."
"Water here," called the colonel, "and some linen!"
"We have none in the fort, sir," answered Major Zane.
"A woman's petticoat, then."
"Take mine," cried Elizabeth, rising and lifting her outside skirt and tearing a strip off her underskirt.
"Nay, not your city finery, Mistress Elizabeth," protested McCullough, sitting up as well.
"Nothing is too fine for a brave man, sir," she answered, smiling proudly down at him.
"Not even Elizabeth Zane?" he questioned, cunningly.
"Not even Elizabeth Zane," she replied, bravely, in spite of her blushes.