XXXVI
ALL stood aghast for a moment in the light of the lamps around the bed of Strong. His clothes were burned, bloody, and torn—they lay in rags upon him. His face and hands were swollen; part of his hair and beard had been shorn off in the storm of fire through which he had fought his way. He spoke not, but there was the grim record of his fight with the flames—of the terrible punishment they had put upon him while the sturdy old lover sought his friends. All hands made haste to do what they could for him and for the woman he had carried out of the fire of the pit.
He had told Master that Annette was waiting for him at the Falls. The young man sent Harris to bring her with horse and buckboard.
Strong lay like one dead while they gave him spirits and bathed his face and hands in oil. Soon he revived a little.
"It's Business," he muttered.
In a moment his thoughts began to wander in a curious delirium filled with suggestions of the old cheerfulness. He sang, feebly:
"The briers are above my head, the brakes above
my knee,