"Your leg must hurt you mightily, the way you go on," muttered Hagar;
and the young man answered: "It does almost murder me, but when a
laugh is in a fellow he can't help letting it out, can he? But where
the plague can that witch of a--I beg your pardon, Mrs. Hagar," he
added hastily, as he saw the frown settling on the old woman's face,
"I mean to say where can Miss Miller be? I shall faint away unless she
comes soon, or you give me a taste of the brandy!"
This time there was something in the tone of his voice which prompted
Hagar to draw near, and she was about to offer him the brandy when
Maggie appeared, together with three men bearing a litter. The sight
of her produced a much better effect upon him than Hagar's brandy
would have done, and motioning the old woman aside he declared himself
ready to be removed.
"Now, John, do pray be careful and not hurt him much!" cried Maggie,
as she saw how pale and faint he was, while even Hagar forgot the
curled lip, which the young man bit until the blood started through,
so intense was his agony when they lifted him upon the litter. "The
camphor, Hagar, the camphor!" said Maggie; and the stranger did not
push it aside when her hand poured it on his head, but the laughing
eyes, now dim with pain, smiled gratefully upon her, and the quivering
lips once murmured as she walked beside him, "Heaven bless you, Maggie
Miller!"
Arrived at Hagar's cottage, the old woman suggested that he be carried
in there, saying as she met Maggie's questioning glance, "I can take
care of him better than anyone else.
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