There was just life enough left within him, to enable him to answer faintly.
"I was on my way to Sandypoint—the night and storm overtook me. I missed the path and my footing; I slipped, and have broken my leg, I'm afraid. I heard you whistling to your dog and tried to call. I didn't dream it was a woman, and I am sorry I have brought you out of your way. Still, as you are here, if you will tell them at the nearest house, and—" his voice died entirely away, in the sleepy cadence of a freezing man.
The nearest house—where was the nearest house? Why, this poor fellow would freeze to death in half an hour if left to himself. Impossible to leave him. What should she do? She thought for a moment. Quick and bright of invention, she made up her mind what to do, she had in her pocket a little passbook and pencil. In the darkness she tore out a leaf—in the darkness she wrote, "Follow Don. Come at once." She pinned the note in her handkerchief—tied the handkerchief securely round the dog's neck, put her arms about him, and gave his black head a hug.
"Go home, Don, go home," she said, "and fetch papa here."
The large, half-human eyes looked up at her. She pushed him away with both hands, and with a low growl of intelligence he set off. And in that sea of snow, lost in the night, Edith Darrell was alone with a freezing man.
In her satchel, among her other purchases, she had several cents' worth of matches for household consumption. With a girl's curiosity, even in that hour, to see what the man was like, she struck a match and looked at him. It flared through the white darkness a second or two, then went out. That second showed her a face as white as the snow itself, the eyes closed, the lips set in silent pain. She saw a shaggy great coat, and fur cap, and—a gentleman, even in that briefest of brief glances.
"You mustn't go to sleep," she said, giving him a shake; "do you hear me, sir? You mustn't go to sleep."
"Yes—mustn't I?" very drowsily.
"You'll freeze to death if you do." A second shake. "Oh, do rouse up like a good fellow, and try to keep awake. I've sent my dog for help, and I mean to stay with you until it comes. Does your leg pain you much?"
"Not now. It did, but I—feel—sleepy, and—"