Throwing aside his pack he stooped down, and lifting up the inanimate form in his strong arms, carried her up the hill as tenderly as a mother would bear her little child.
"Poor lassie! Poor lassie!" he crooned. "What has happened? Who could frighten sich a sweet lamb? But never mind, Pete is here, an' he'll look inter this bizness later."
When Constance opened her eyes she found herself lying in her own home, with her father and old Pete standing anxiously by the couch. She tried to rise, but, feeling rather unsteady, was glad to lie down again.
"What has happened?" she asked, "or have I been dreaming? Where is that terrible man?"
"Hush, darling," replied her father soothingly. "Lie still and rest awhile, and you will soon be strong."
"Ye've been dreamin', lassie," said Pete, delighted to know that Constance was recovering. "Ye've had bad visions, an' so fergot yer supper. It's all ready, an' yer dad's been waitin' fer ye to wake up fer some time."
Constance found it very pleasant to be there, weak though she was, listening to the old man's words, and to feel so secure.
"Please tell me how I got here," she asked, looking up at the prospector. "I think you had much to do with my rescue."
"Tut, tut, lassie, never ye mind that now. Drink this hot tea, an' eat this cracker, then we'll tell ye all about it."
While Constance obeyed this injunction, her father and Pete ate their supper at the little table near by. The latter was hungry, very hungry, as it had been hours since he had tasted any food. He asked no question, and seemed to be the most free-from-care fellow in the world. In his quaint way he told stories of his frontier life, till Constance found herself alternately weeping and laughing at his tales of pathos and humour. But if any one could have looked below the mere surface of words, he would have seen how anxious Pete was to hear the whole story of the night, and how the missionary was getting along. Not, however, till the colour had been somewhat restored to Constance's cheeks, the dishes cleared away, and the men seated by the couch, was the tale of adventure related. Then followed the account of Keith's troubles, his trial, and expulsion. Mr. Radhurst told of the latter, as Constance found herself unequal to the task so painful was the memory of it all.