"I thought I was too late!" he exclaimed. "We saw the Snowbird flying, miles away, and I thought I should never see you again."
"The doctor is at Frenchy's!" cried Helen. "He is dreadfully ill. Please go and see what you can do for him."
"I'll go at once," he replied. "We intercepted the mail-boat and I have a letter for you, Mr. Jelliffe, and one for the doctor. I hear he saved that man's life, over to the Bay. Been up with him day and night. You can't understand what it means to us to have a man like him here, who permeates us all with his own brave confidence. The blessing of it! It was a terrible storm that he went through when he walked over to the Bay. It is an awful country, and his steps were surely guided over pitfalls and rocks."
The little man is quite admirable in the sturdiness of his faith, in the power of his belief, that is the one supreme ideal always before him, and I shook hands with him.
"But I fear he is very ill now. A boy just told me they had to carry him from his boat, when he returned this morning."
"I'll go with you now to Frenchy's," said Helen.
"Are you not afraid?" asked the little parson.
"Are you?" she asked, just a little rudely, I fear.
"With me it is a matter of duty and love, you know," he replied.
"With me also," she said, with head bent down. Then she looked up again.