Martine lay white and still. Clare, stooping down, could not rouse her.
"Let us take her to the house, and then I will go for Mrs. Stratford," cried Clare; "she has been spending the day with my mother."
"I was on my way to Red Knoll," said Mr. Gamut. "I came on the afternoon train, and I felt anxious to talk over the good news; but now, this looks serious," he continued, as together he and Clare lifted Martine from the ground.
"May I take my horse to your stable, Clare?" asked Carlotta. "He is quiet enough, but I would rather not drive now, and then I will hurry to the village for a doctor. I am so sorry for all this," she concluded.
"There are certainly no bones broken," said the practical Clare; "she has simply fainted."
Clare and Mr. Gamut slowly carried Martine to the side of the road, and now Clare was supporting her friend's head on her knee, while Mr. Gamut had gone to Red Knoll for water.
As Carlotta disappeared down the lane leading to the Ethridge house, Martine stirred slightly, and opened her eyes.
"Where am I?" she asked, faintly. "Oh—yes—I remember," and though she closed her eyes again, she no longer lay a dead weight against Clare's arm.