"There's no other way. My back—I can't sit up, and my legs are numb. I can't move them."
"I'll carry you, and there's the hoist rope."
"No use. I couldn't ride."
"I'll carry you," repeated Lennon.
The girl laid a gently caressing hand on his arm.
"Don't you understand, dear? My back—it must be broken. We must think of Blossom. You must hurry off with her while there is time. Isn't it good that you love her?"
Lennon uttered a choking cry and caught the girl up in his arms. He clasped her to him in an agony of love and remorse.
"Carmena! To have thought so wrong of you—of you who were giving your life! I've been a fool—a blind fool. Forgive me! That child—— My God! I can't give you up—I'll not give you up!"
"Then—you do—love me, Jack," sighed the girl. Her arms crept up about his neck. "You do love me—I'm glad now you did not let me die—at once—in there."
"Not at all!" vowed Lennon. "Even though your back—— You'll not die."