Mr. Brainerd was shocked, but he did not lose his presence of mind, and, cautioning them to stay as far back as they could, to escape drawing another shot, he remained at his post, bending low and keeping close to the wall, while he watched the point across the ravine with catlike closeness.
"Are you badly hurt?" asked Maggie, with the natural tenderness of her nature.
"Oh, I'm done for, dear Maggie; I hoped I should be able to live for your sake—but it seems not."
This was rather startling, but, under the alarming circumstances, much was to be overlooked.
"I hope you are not so seriously hurt as all that," ventured Aunt Peggy, whose sympathy for the man led her to disregard her own safety, for she placed herself close to him, and necessarily in the same spot where he stood when he fell.
"Oh, go away," persisted Habakkuk, "I don't want anybody near me but Maggie; take my hand, dear, and let me—"
"See h'ar, dat's enough ob dat," broke in Gravity. "You ain't hurt any more dan I am; dere's de bullet, and it nebber touched ye."
As he spoke, he picked up a piece of lead, jagged and flattened, which had struck the rocky wall directly over the shoulder of Habakkuk, without so much as scratching his skin.
The New Englander stared at the battered lead held over his face by the grinning African; then he clapped his hand to his breast, where he supposed he was hurt, came suddenly to a sitting position, scrambled to his feet, and picking up his gun, exclaimed:
"I should like to see the chap that fired that shot, for it's just as bad to scare a fellow to death as to shoot him."