He smiled, standing bare-headed in the chilly wind, for his hat was lost, his coat torn, hair dishevelled, and one hand carelessly bound up in his handkerchief. Helen saw these marks of the night's labors and perils for the first time, and as soon as they were seated desired to see his hand.
"It is nothing,—a scratch, a mere scratch, I give you my word, mademoiselle," he began, but Wilhelm unceremoniously removed the handkerchief, showing a torn and bleeding hand which must have been exquisitely painful.
Helen turned pale, and with a reproachful glance skilfully bound it up again, saying, as she handed a silken scarf to Wilhelm,—
"Make of that a sling, please, and put the poor hand in it. Care must be taken, or harm will come of it."
Hoffman submitted in bashful silence, as if surprised and touched by the young lady's interest. She saw that, and added gratefully,—
"I do not forget that you saved my life, though you seem to have done so. My uncle will thank you better than I can."
"I already have my reward, mademoiselle," he returned, with a respectful inclination and a look she could neither understand nor forget.
III
AMY'S ADVENTURE
The excitement and suspense of the major and Amy can be imagined when news of the accident reached them. Their gratitude and relief were intense when Helen appeared next morning, with the faithful Hoffman still at his post, though no longer able to disguise the fact that he was suffering from his wound.