He ran to the distracted parent, and seized him by the arm as he dashed from one place to another in search of the gentle maiden whose life was part of his own.
“Your daughter is out here, sir,” said Lieutenant Somers, pointing to the spot where he had borne her.
“My daughter!” gasped the agonized father. “Where—where?”
“Is she—O Heaven, spare me!” groaned he.
“She is hurt, but I think not very badly. Her left arm is broken, and her head is slightly cut.”
“O God, I thank Thee!” gasped the father, as he walked with the lieutenant to the place where the young lady was sitting on the grass.
“I think you need not be alarmed about her,” added our officer, anxious to console the suffering parent.
“My poor Emmie!” exclaimed the anxious father when they reached the spot, while he knelt down upon the grass by her side, the tears coursing in torrents down his pale cheeks.
“Don’t be alarmed, father,” replied she, putting her uninjured arm around his neck and kissing him, while their tears mingled. “I am not much hurt, father.”