"Is he dead?" Jess asked in an awed voice.
"No, he is alive," Mrs. Hampton replied as she felt his pulse. "But look at his face! Isn't it terribly burned!"
"And his hands, arms, and body!" Jess replied. "Oh, the poor boy!" She dropped upon her knees by his side, and took one of the swollen hands in hers. "He must have been burned when he leaped through the fire at the landing," she continued. "And he must have been suffering all the time while he was rowing us here, and we were too much excited to notice it. Now I understand the meaning of that groan in the mine. Oh, what are we to do?"
"I am afraid we can do nothing," Mrs. Hampton replied. "The fire has destroyed the boat, so we cannot cross the lake. The only thing to do is to leave you here with Eben while I go for assistance."
"Perhaps John will soon be here," Jess suggested. "He must be very anxious about us."
"But he won't know where to find us."
"He will come to the island, anyway, and will search everywhere for us. Perhaps we shall be able to see him and call to him. Suppose we wait for a while. You cannot walk to the river."
"I can do more than you imagine," was the quiet reply. "But it is just as well to wait awhile. In the meantime we must get this poor boy under shelter. Let us carry him into the mine."
As carefully and tenderly as possible the two lifted the unconscious lad and bore him into the opening of the mine, where they laid him down upon the ground. With his head on her lap, Jess wiped away the moisture from the red swollen face. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched him, and noted how his hair had been burnt away, and his features distorted with pain.
"You poor boy!" she murmured. "You did it all for us, and we can do nothing for you now."