On how very small a thread the life of a human being sometimes--nay, but often--hangs! Lotty, it is true, was doing her best by the rules to revive the English stranger, if indeed there were the slightest sparks of life remaining in his heart; and wonderfully calm and determined she was, determined to do her little utmost until the doctor might come. And this, too, in spite of the words of discouragement cruelly meted out to her and her assistants every now and then by Biffins Lee. 'I don't think, boys, you can do much more. It is easy to see the man is dead. Better carry him up now. Poor fellow, he is in a better world than we are!' Long after this these very words seemed to come back to Lotty in all their heartless force. But at present, hoping against hope, she bade the men persevere. 'The chances are'--this was Lee's last shot--'that Chops won't find the doctor at home at this time of the day.' Now, the fact is, that at this very time good Dr Wilson was on his way walking to see a case about a mile from the camp. Chops met him. He slid rather than jumped off the good Renegade, and the well-trained horse stood instantly still. Chops had just strength enough to slip the bridle quickly into the doctor's hand. 'Ride,' he cried. 'Ride, doctor, for the love of our heavenly Father.' The doctor was mounted. 'Back, sir, back to our camp. The beach--drowned--Lotty is'---- Dr Wilson was off at the gallop. And such a gallop, for the good animal appeared to know that it was a case of death or life. But Lotty--that was the last word he had heard--was a favourite with the doctor, as with every one who knew her. Oh, to think that she, in her beauty and youth, should be lying stark and wet and stiff upon the sands! Neither whip nor spur needed Renegade, and a real shout went up from those on the beach as soon as the rider appeared. He rushed into the crowd. It was only Mr Blake, and he felt relieved. But he was to do his duty, and had it been Biffins Lee himself, whom the surgeon neither respected nor loved, he would have done that duty faithfully and well. 'Back, men, back!' he cried.--'Biffins, keep your people away,' he added almost angrily, for he could see callousness in this gipsy's hang-dog face. 'We want air--air.--Mary, go at once and prepare the gentleman's bed. Heat blankets and boil water.--Lotty, my darling'--this was spoken most tenderly--'run and assist Mary.--Now, off with your warm coats, men; strip off the poor gentleman's things; roll him up and keep rubbing. I'll do the rest.' In two minutes' time there was blood mantling in Antony's face and a gasping sigh. In a short time natural breathing recommenced, the pulse was beating, and slowly, though somewhat irregularly, the wheels of life were once more moving, and he was able to swallow.