“You—you—ah, it is not you at all!” he exclaimed incoherently.
The Star Woman sat up. With one arm she held the body of Crawford, which lay across her knees, the other hand she extended to Perrot.
“Metaminens!” A glory was in her eyes. “It is you! Here, look to him quickly—he is not dead—I can feel his heart beating——”
Perrot awoke to action. He turned Crawford over and swiftly examined the hurt body.
“No—he is not dead. He will not die if——”
His eyes fell upon the star of silver and turquoise that hung across the bandaged breast of the Star Woman. A deathly pallor came into his face. He reached out and touched the star.
“You—yes, it is you after all——”
“Look to him, quickly!” cried the girl, and then fell back, her eyes closed.
Perrot glanced at Crawford and shrugged. “You are far from death, my friend,” he murmured. Leaning forward, he touched the breast of the girl, nodded reassuringly as he felt her heartbeat, then looked for a long moment into her quiet face.
When he rose and stood erect, the grey-bearded cheeks of Sieur Nicholas Perrot were sparkling with tears. In his eyes lay a great wonder, and a greater heartache.