She leaned to him then and, placing her arms about him, ever mindful of his hurt, she lifted his head to her shoulder. The flood-gates of her reserve once lifted, the full tide of her intense nature swept over him and enveloped him. It was as light to his soul and healing to his body. How often it had seemed as if he saw her with that halo of light about her, and now it was as if he had been drawn within its charmed radius, as surely he had.
"And then, dear heart, what did you do?"
"I thought you were killed, and almost—almost I cursed him. I hope now I wasn't so wicked. But I—I—called back from God the promise I had given him."
"And then—tell me all the blessed truth—and then—"
"You were bleeding—bleeding—and I took off your clothes—and I saw where you were bleeding your life away, and I tied my dress around you. I tore it in pieces and wound it all around you as well as I could, and then I put your coat back on you, and still you didn't waken. It seemed as if you had stopped breathing. And then I saw the bruise on your head, and I thought maybe you were only stunned. I brought water from the branch and put your head on the wet cloth and bound it all around, but still you looked like he had killed you, and then—" he stirred in her arms to feel their clasp.