“My darling, darling Courage!” whispers some one close bending above her.
“Dear Miss Julia,” and a little hand all of a tremble gropes for Miss Julia's face in the darkness.
The draw swings back into place, and Sylvia is on it in a flash.
“Oh, you didn't gib us 'nough time,” she cries accusingly to David as she flies past. David instantly divines her meaning, for they both know Courage well enough to fear she may have run some terrible danger, and seizing the lantern, hanging midway in the draw, David follows Sylvia as fast as tottering limbs will carry him. What a sickening sensation sweeps over him as the horses loom up in the darkness and he sees a group of people crowding about something hung on the bridge!
“She isn't deaded! she isn't deaded!” Sylvia joyfully calls out, and that moment the light from the lantern falls athwart a prostrate little figure in the midst of the group.
“I think I can get up now” are the words that meet David's ear, and an answering “God be praised!” escapes from his quivering lips. Then some one turns the heads of the quieted horses, and two ladies, one on either side of Courage, help her back to the house. Larry, who has heard the commotion, succeeds in getting dressed and out to the door just as the little party reach it. He starts alarmed and surprised at the sight of Courage, but fortunately is too blind to see the alarming stains of blood on her little white face, but the moment they enter the light the others are quick to see them. Courage is lifted into David's big rocker, and Larry, groping into his own room, brings a pillow for her back; Sylvia disappears and returns in a trice with a towel and a basin of water; Miss Julia, with shaking hands, measures something into a glass; the other lady, with a little help from Courage, removes the dust-begrimed coat, and then lays it very tenderly over a chair. And now the color begins to surge back into the little pale face. The cut under the curls, which is not severe enough to need a surgeon, is tightly bound, and then at last they all sit down to get their breath for a moment. The horses, which of course were none other than Miss Julia's gray ponies, are secured to a rail outside, and David brings a strange gentleman into the room.
“This is my brother, Courage,” says Miss Julia—“he has often heard me speak of you—and this lady is his wife.”