There was just light enough for her to see that David was bending down; and then as she got very near she saw that on the ground in front of him was lying a dark, shadowy form. As Helen cried out again to know what was the matter, her husband said, “Do not be frightened, dear; it is only some poor woman that I have found here by the roadside.”
“A woman!” the girl echoed in wonder, at the same time giving a gasp of relief at the discovery that her husband was not in trouble. “Where in the world can she have come from, David?”
“I do not know,” he answered, “but she probably wandered off the main road. It is some poor, wretched creature, Helen; she has been drinking, and is quite helpless.”
And Helen stood still in horror, while David arose and came to her. “You are out of breath, dear,” he exclaimed, “why did you come so fast?”
“Oh, I was so frightened!” the girl panted. “I cannot tell you, David, what happens in my heart whenever I think of your coming to any harm. It was dreadful, for I knew something serious must be the matter.”
David put his arm about her and kissed her to quiet her fears; then he said, “You ought not to have come out, dear; but be calm now, for there is nothing to worry you, only we must take care of this poor woman. It is such a sad sight, Helen; I wish that you had not come here.”
“What were you going to do?” asked the girl, forgetting herself quickly in her sympathy.
“I meant to come down and tell you,” was David's reply; “and then go back to town and get someone to come and take her away.”
“But, David, you can never get back over that rough road in the darkness!” exclaimed Helen in alarm; “it is too far for you to walk, even in the daytime—I will not let you do it, you must not!”
“But dear, this poor creature cannot be left here; it will be a bitter cold night, and she might die.”