"Yes; unless—" then, arousing himself: "How long is it since she was bitten?"
"Scarcely an hour."
The face of the unknown lighted up. He remained silent for a moment, during which the bystanders anxiously bent towards him, awaiting with impatience the opinion he would probably pronounce.
"Scarcely an hour?" said he at last. "Then she may be saved."
The stranger uttered a sigh of joy.
"You will answer for it?" he cried.
"I?" returned the unknown, shrugging; his shoulders; "I will answer for nothing, except that I will attempt impossibilities for the chance of restoring her to you."
"Oh, save her, save her!" eagerly exclaimed the father; "And, whoever you may be, I will bless you."
"It matters not to me what you may do. I do not try to save this girl for your sake; and, whatever may be the motives inducing me, I exempt you from all feelings of gratitude."
"You may possibly harbour such thoughts; but for myself—"