"But you comes running back, and very fierce too!"
"I meant to kill him!"
"Why trouble to kill him?"
"I could not bear he should foul you in his brutal arms!"
Here came her hand to touch my aching brow and I closed my eyes again.
"Does your head ache very much?" she enquired.
"A little!" I groaned.
"Can ye walk?" she enquired. "'Tis goin' to storm and rain on us soon,
I think—can ye walk a small ways?"
For answer I got to my knees and, with her ready assistance, to my feet, but found myself very faint and sick and with my head throbbing as though it would burst.
"Come!" said she, taking my hand in her warm, strong, clasp. "There's rain in this wind—come! I knows a fair, likely place—"