"I must tell you; you must bear it as well as I. Hark! they are going to him; you must go too!" She turned toward the window, swayed heavily, and was caught in his arms.
It was a brief swoon, but when she opened her eyes and looked about her, the sound of the flying wheels was dying away in the distance, southward.
He had found the pail of pure spring water, and applied some of it to her hands and temples with the quickness and ease of a woman, and he now held a glass to her lips.
She drank feverishly, put a hand before her eyes, raised herself with an effort, and seemed to struggle mutely for self-control. Then she turned toward him.
"I am Hilda Grant," she said, brokenly.
"My brother's friend! My sister that is to be!"
"No, no; not now. Something has happened. You should have gone with those men—with the doctor. They are going to bring him back."
"Miss Grant, sister!" His hands had closed firmly upon her wrists, and his voice was firm. "You must tell me the worst, quick. Don't seek to spare me; think of him! What is it?"
"He—he went from home early, with his pistol, they say, to shoot at a target. He is dead!"
"Dead! Charley dead! Quick! Where is he? I
