Tears started in her eyes and fell in a burning shower upon his pallid, handsome face, mingling with the crimson rain that ran down his cheek.
Again he revived, and, looking up, met that tender, tearful glance of Leola’s lovely eyes, that made the blood leap through his veins with rapture.
He said faintly:
“Do not say you are not an angel, for I shall always think of you as one, sweet girl! Ah, I remember all, now! My runaway horse was going straight over the declivity when you spurred yours between and caught his neck in your arms. It was a magnificent thing to do, but a perilous one, too, to risk your life for an utter stranger!”
Leola smiled brightly, and answered:
“It certainly looked like taking a terrible risk, and would scarcely have succeeded so well but for one fact quite unknown to you.”
“And that?” he queried, eagerly; and she replied:
“You see, I recognized in your satanic steed a favorite of mine—a spirited creature that I loved dearly when it belonged to my guardian, who sold it to the livery stable in town only a week ago. Black Hawk, as we called him, was an elder brother to my pony Rex, and they were fond of each other; so, you see, it was really our acquaintance with Black Hawk that made him so easy to subdue. Just turn your head now, sir, and you will see the pair biting at each other in the most affectionate manner.”
“It is wonderful,” he murmured; “but, all the same, I owe you my life, for you ran a terrible risk trusting to Black Hawk’s possible obedience to you. What if, in his fury of fear and rage—for he had taken desperate fright at a well-digging machine in a field—he had proved unmanageable? You and I must have gone down to death together, all in one tragic moment.”
“It is true, but let us not think of it, since the danger is past,” said Leola, making light of it, and adding: