He reeled in his saddle, and the startled son reached out to prevent his falling.
"Forgive me, father; I forgot your illness."
"There—there—I am all right," he murmured, putting his hand to his face, in the effort to master his weakness.
His wife was also at his side, anxious and alarmed.
"Hugh, I fear you have undertaken more than you can do," she said, laying her hand affectionately on his arm, and peering into as much of his face as was visible through the thick wrappings.
He made no reply, and it was plain that he was nearly fainting. There was nothing his friends could do for him, except to help him out of the saddle, and they were about to propose that, when a slight but alarming accident took place.
The Winchester, resting across the saddle-bow and hitherto grasped in the mittened hands of the man, slipped from his relaxed fingers and fell to the earth. The lock struck in such a way that a chamber was discharged, the bullet burying itself in the bank which Brinton had climbed only a few minutes before.
The sharp explosion roused Edith, who was sinking into a doze, and imparted to the man himself such a shock that his growing faintness gave instant place to renewed strength. He straightened up and said—
"Gracious! that's too bad; they must have heard it."
"We can't tell about that; are you stronger?"