Unafraid, Nora walked to the spot whence the cry had proceeded. Her eye fell upon an object huddled together on the ground. As it was out of the beaten path she stepped from branches and logs to stones and rocks before she reached it. She stooped down and gazed at it intently; then she uttered an exclamation of surprise.
“It’s Miss Ethel!” she gasped. “God help her.”
She was right. There lay Ethel Hollister the girl who had never liked her—the girl from whom, no matter how hard she might try, Nora could get nothing beyond a cool “Thank you very much, Nora.”
From the arm of this young woman trickled a stream of bright, red blood. Honora wondered if she was dead. She gently shook her.
“Miss Ethel!” she called once and twice, “Are ye much hurt?” Then she half lifted her to a sitting posture and Ethel opened her eyes.
“Oh, Miss Casey—Honora!” she gasped feebly. “Thank God it is you who have found me. I have been so frightened. Two men were searching for me. I passed them on the road before my horse took fright and threw me. I heard them say: ‘It must be the same girl. She rode a white horse. Now I know who she is. She’s the niece of John Hollister. Her father is a rich New Yorker. We can sell the horse. We’ve got him safe, and we can keep the girl for a ransom. Probably she’s injured and is lying somewhere around here.’ Nora, I dared not breathe lest they should find me. I prayed to God as I’ve never prayed before to let them pass me and to send me help. He has answered my prayer and I’m grateful. When I heard your footsteps I thought they had returned. Oh! I am so glad that it’s you,” and she burst into tears.
Nora knelt down and took her by the hand.
“Where is your pain, my dear?” she asked.
“My leg. I guess it must be broken, and my arm—I have had that nearly cut off. The horse became frightened and unmanageable. He turned into these woods and started to run. I was knocked off by the branch of a tree. I don’t know how long I’ve lain here—it seems for hours. I must have fainted, but Nora the pain in my arm and leg is terrible. Whatever can we do?”
The girl’s hat hung from the tree. Her hair was unloosed and hanging about her face. Evidently she was suffering agony, and to make matters worse upon the leaves overhead Nora heard a pattering of rain.