During all these years since Barbara's interrupted flight, no one had really read her heart, or been the unacknowledged recipient of her confidences, so fully as Mrs. Debby Blue. Now, when Barbara arrived, breathless, with great, strained eyes, tears in her voice, but her red mouth sternly set, the old woman understood with few words. At another time, Barbara would have been amazed at this swift understanding. Now, she was only grateful for it. While she was explaining, Debby was rummaging on shelves and in boxes, looking for sundry simples of her cunning extraction. At last she said:
"Don't you be worried, my sweeting. If Mr. Robert kin be cured up, old Debby's the one that kin cure him up, well as any doctor in the land, not even exceptin' Doctor Jim. An' I've got the place where we kin hide him, too, an' keep him safe till he gits well. An' now, I'm after you, Miss Barby, sweetheart!"
"God bless your dear, true heart, Debby," cried Barbara, leading the way in hot haste to the canoe.
When they arrived at the point, Robert was just recovering consciousness, in a dazed fashion. They saw him make an effort to sit up; and they saw Keep, who was nothing if not literal in his interpretation of Barbara's commands, put his two huge fore paws on Robert's breast and firmly push him down again. The tears jumped to Barbara's eyes at this, and she gave a little hysterical laugh, exclaiming:
"Just look at that, Debby! Good dear old Keep! Even he knows that Robert must be kept hidden!"
When they got to him, he sat up determinedly, and recognised Barbara with a look of utter content.
"You, my lady! I have come a very long way to look—" and then he sank off again, falling back into Barbara's supporting arms.
