An hour or so later a clear-voiced call rang through the noisy wind. They stopped and listened.
"Somebody coming," said Master.
He answered with, a loud halloo as they went on wearily. Soon they saw some one approaching in the dusky trail.
"Who's there?" the young man asked.
"Edith Dunmore," was the answer that trembled with gladness. "Oh, sir! I would have gone through the fire."
"I know," said he, "you would have gone through the fire."
"For—for you," she added, brokenly.
Master dared not lay down his burden. He toiled on, his heart so full that he could not answer. The girl walked beside him for a moment of solemn, suggestive silence. She could dimly see the prostrate body of Strong on the back of her lover, and understood. What a singular and noble restraint was in that meeting!
"I love you—I love you, and I want to help you," she said, as she walked beside him.
"Help Miss Strong," he answered. "She is badly burned."