The face of the inert man beside the tree was redly smeared with blood. He lay horribly loose and still upon the grass. She knelt at his side and placed her hands upon him, feeling above his heart. "Sidney!" she said to him. "Sidney! You cannot--you shall not die! I never meant the things I said--or thought--or anything! Oh, please, please don't--don't look like that! You've got to come back--you've got to!" She tore at the band about his neck and lifted his head on her knee. She wiped the red from his pallid face with the hem of her briar-torn skirt. "I'll find the spring!" she told him eagerly, starting as if to rise, but the still form moved, and, dully at first, the two heavy eyes were opened. "Oh!" she said. "Oh, you're hurt. Don't try to do anything but rest.... You didn't come--you didn't come home!" Despite her entreaty, Grenville weakly raised his head and propped himself, half sitting. The weight being gone from his outstretched legs, his normal circulation was returning. He regained his strength with characteristic swiftness. "Hurt?" he said. "No--I don't believe---- I must have got a knockout blow. The tiger? Did I get the tiger?" He sat up uncertainly and, glancing about, saw the huge striped form where Elaine had dragged it from his body. She still remained on her knees, fixedly gazing on his face. Her strength was ebbing rapidly, as Grenville's now returned. "You didn't come home," she repeated, by way of explaining her presence at his side. "I couldn't live here alone." Grenville arose and assisted her weakly to her feet. She stumbled to and leaned against the tree. "By George!" he said, "I'll bet a hat you could!" He knew what courage had come to her aid before she could make her excursion. "I went down like a dub," he added, in his customary manner. "No good excuse, but I do apologize. Better get out of this, I'm thinking." He took up the torch she had planted in the earth, to examine the tiger, dead and mangled in the grass, One of the creature's great front paws had been rudely torn from his body. He could only have escaped instantaneous death by having moved from the bomb at the moment of its explosion. "Your robe looks mussed," Grenville continued, with a gesture towards the animal's motionless body. "But I think it can be washed." Elaine slightly shivered at sight of the frame now done with life. "You've killed him," she said. "I'm glad!" He took her firmly by the arm and led her away through the thicket. When they reached the camp, Elaine was not yet fully convinced that Grenville was uninjured. She brought him a rag she had torn from some of her clothing and begged him to wash his reddened jaw. Even the restoration of his former stubbled complexion could not suffice to bring her that sense of certainty and calm essential before she could sleep.