He gave her a draught from his flask, standing over her threateningly when she hesitated at the entire contents of the cup cover. "Take it all," he insisted, "every drop. It's the only thing on earth that's health to its enemies and death to its friends." Sydney leaned back wearily against a jutting rock and closed her eyes. Her head swam, and she resigned herself to the Doctor's commands with the blessed feeling of relief that a woman has when responsibility falls from her own upon some man's shoulders. A whoop from the chestnuts made her open her eyes. "Is it Bob?" "Yes, leading Johnny." Doctor Morgan raised his voice. "Come down here. You're a pretty feller to carry a girl to ride," he continued, as Bob tied the horse to one of the chestnuts and sprang down the slope. "No girl in my time ever shook me like that. Where did she lose you?" Bob answered nothing to his father's gibes, but bent anxiously over Sydney. "You are not hurt, de--Sydney? Just awfully done up? I ought not to have let you come. It's been too hard a ride. It's all my fault," he went on, accusingly, while the Doctor nodded his head in agreement, and Sydney tried in vain to interrupt. "No, indeed, Bob, you were not to blame at all. I made you promise, and I couldn't have forgiven you or myself if I hadn't been here when----" She fell back against the rock, and the Doctor broke in, by way of diversion,-- "Where's Gray Eagle?" "Down at the tobacco barn. He got wild and balked the steep part of the trail, so I tied him to a tree and left him to kick it out." "You walked up, then?" "Yes, and found Johnny gluttonously eating blackberry-vines on the other side of the bald. That scared me to death, for I thought he'd made way with Sydney in some mysterious fashion,--perhaps eaten her,--and was indulging in dessert! Where's your enemy?" The Doctor glanced quickly at Sydney, and frowned at Bob. "Gone home," was all he would say. They lifted the girl on to her horse, and Bob guided him down to the very foot of the mountain. At the tobacco barn the Doctor untied Gray Eagle, subdued by his enforced loneliness, and led him behind them. "Bob will stay to luncheon at Oakwood, it's so late," said Sydney to him as they parted at his gate. "You'll not forget to find out in some way if the Baron is ill, will you?" "No, my dear, I'll watch him like the Pinkertons' eye that never sleeps," returned the old man, genially. "Mrs. Carroll has gone into the dining-room," the servant told them at the door, and Sydney assumed much cheerfulness as she made her apologies. "I've brought Bob, grandmother. He's been all over everywhere with me this morning. You'll forgive me, Katrina, for leaving you, won't you? Where's Mr. Wendell?" "Not back from Asheville yet."