"Poor boy!" he murmured with deep sympathy. "He still breathes, but he would assuredly have died but for this wonderfully intelligent animal."
He at once set to work chafing Cæsar's hands and cheeks, and, presently, wrapping him in his own cloak, lifted him up on to the saddle, holding him there while he himself walked beside the horse, then, followed by Vigilant, who marched along with head and tail erect in proud satisfaction at having brought rescue to his beloved master, they in due time reached the presbytery.
The curé had the still unconscious boy put into a warm bed, where before long he recovered his senses, and opened his eyes.
He looked about the bright cosy room with wondering inquiry, and caught the eye of the kind priest, who was sitting near him conning his breviary and repeating the familiar words to himself as the movement of his lips showed.
"Ah! ha!" exclaimed Père Blandinière in a tone of satisfaction as he rose from his seat, and approached the bed. "You have come back to life, eh? I felt sure you would. You are too sturdy a lad to let the cold put an end like that to you. And how are you feeling now?"
Cæsar felt so languid, and at the same time so entirely comfortable in the soft warm bed that his inclination was to lie still and say nothing. But he was too courteous a boy to do that, and, moreover, as soon as his senses returned, he began to think about the others, Nadine and Abel, who were so anxiously awaiting his return.
Instinctively he tried to get up, but the curé gently pressed him back into the bed.
"No—no—my son," he said, kindly yet firmly. "Just stay where you are for the present. But if you feel strong enough pray tell me your story."
"But Nadine, and Abel, and Nalla," cried Cæsar. "They must be saved," and his big dark eyes glowed with intense earnestness as he clasped his hands like one in prayer.