"Yes, Madame," she said dreamily. "Yes, but he must have--he must have
--broth--and a bandage,--wet"
"Sure, sure,--he shall,--but come to the blankets!"
As Maren went down with a long sigh, her limbs shirking the last task
of straightening themselves upon the softness of the unwonted couch,
the little woman looked up across her at the man with a world of
questions in her face.
"Poor darlin'!" she said softly. "Whativer is it, Terence?"
"A heroine, if all she says be thrue, an' as unconscious of it as a
new-born babe!"
When Maren awoke the sun was straight overhead and some one had been
calling from a distance for a very long time.
"Come, come, asthore! Opin yer eyes! That's it! A little more, now.
Wake up, for love av Heaven, or we'll all be overtaken be th' Injuns!"
Ah! Indians! At that she opened her eyes and looked into the pretty
blue ones she remembered last.
The little woman was kneeling beside her with an arm about her
shoulder, trying to lift her heavy head and falling short in the
endeavour.
Maren was too much in her muscled height for the bird-like creature.
She sat up at once and looked around. The canoes were in the water, all
the miscellaneous luggage had been put aboard, and every one was ready
for a new start.
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