She came and knelt by his side, and took his hand in hers. "Cannot I help you to get up?" she inquired.
"I am not sure," he said, pulling a very wry face. "I'm very much afraid I shall have to lie here until you can get assistance. You see it is my turn now."
"But what is the matter?" she asked, eagerly.
"I fear my leg is broken," he said, knitting his brows, as if in pain. "Something went with a snap, and I'm afraid to move."
"But you cannot lie here," she said, "for the tide is coming in. Oh! let me help you to get up. Do try your best."
"I will, for your sake," he answered, and he smiled at her in a way she never forgot.
"Oh, I shall never forgive myself," she said, chokingly, and the tears filled her eyes, and rolled down her cheeks. "All this comes of my stupid folly!"
"No, you must not blame yourself," he insisted. "You could not help the stone giving way. Now give me your hand. How strong you are! There, I'm in a perpendicular position once more," but while he spoke he became deathly pale, and the perspiration stood in big drops on his brow.
"Lean on me," she said; "lean all your weight on me."
He smiled pitifully, but he could not trust himself to speak.