Then out of the woods came Pip, running. He had something in his arms.
"It is Eve," he said, panting; "there was a hole and her horse stumbled. I found her."
Poor honest Pip! As if she were his own, he held her now in his arms. Her golden head, swung up to his shoulder, rested heavily above his heart. Her eyes were shut.
Richard's practiced eye saw at once her state of collapse. He jumped from his horse. "Give her to me, Meade," he said, "and get somebody's car as quickly as you can."
And now the tiger in Pip flashed out. "She's mine," he said, breathing hoarsely. "I love her. You go and get the car."
"Man," the young doctor said steadily, "this isn't the time to quarrel. Lay her down, then, and let me have a look at her."
He had his little case of medicines, and he hunted for something to bring her back to consciousness. Pip, pale and shaken, folded his coat under her head and chafed her hands.
Presently life seemed to sweep through her body. She shivered and moved.
Her eyes came open. "What happened?"
"You fell from your horse. Meade found you."