"Sidney!" she said to him. "Sidney! You cannot—you shall not die! I never meant the things I said—or thought—or anything! Oh, please, please don't—don't look like that! You've got to come back—you've got to!"
She tore at the band about his neck and lifted his head on her knee. She wiped the red from his pallid face with the hem of her briar-torn skirt.
"I'll find the spring!" she told him eagerly, starting as if to rise, but the still form moved, and, dully at first, the two heavy eyes were opened.
"Oh!" she said. "Oh, you're hurt. Don't try to do anything but rest.... You didn't come—you didn't come home!"
Despite her entreaty, Grenville weakly raised his head and propped himself, half sitting. The weight being gone from his outstretched legs, his normal circulation was returning. He regained his strength with characteristic swiftness.
"Hurt?" he said. "No—I don't believe—— I must have got a knockout blow. The tiger? Did I get the tiger?"
He sat up uncertainly and, glancing about, saw the huge striped form where Elaine had dragged it from his body. She still remained on her knees, fixedly gazing on his face. Her strength was ebbing rapidly, as Grenville's now returned.
"You didn't come home," she repeated, by way of explaining her presence at his side. "I couldn't live here alone."
Grenville arose and assisted her weakly to her feet. She stumbled to and leaned against the tree.
"By George!" he said, "I'll bet a hat you could!"