"I congratulate you, Miss Hetherill, on your speedy recovery," I said.
"It was merely nervousness and excitement," she replied. "A draught of something very bitter that Dr. Ambrose gave me, and a good sleep, have restored me."
"Very well," I said, thinking to cheer her up: "then there is no reason why you should not help in the making of the camp, and show that you are a better architect than I am."
"I am mountain-bred in part at least," she said, "and I know hardships. What may I do?"
"Take hold of the end of that pole," I said, "and lift."
She seized it and with strong young muscles lifted it up. I was at the other end, and together we swung it into place.
"That does pretty well for a rebel lass," I said.
"Here, you are the rebel," she said, "for this is our territory and you are our prisoner."
"What's this? what's this?" cried Dr. Ambrose. His back had been turned toward us, and he had not seen the approach of Miss Hetherill. "Just up from a fever and out here in the snow! Go back in the hut."