"Can you give this young lady shelter and food?" asked Bart, gravely. "I guess so," said the man; "been out all night?" and he hurried them into a warm and cheerful room, bright with a blazing fire, where was a comely, busy matron, who turned to them in speechless surprise. "This is Judge Markham's daughter," said Bart, as Julia sank into a chair, strongly inclined to break down completely; "she got lost, last night, near her father's, and wandered all night alone, and I found her just beyond the creek, not more than two hours ago. I must place her in your hands, my good woman." "Poor, precious thing!" cried the woman, kneeling and pulling off her shoes, and placing her chilled feet to the fire. "What a blessed mercy you did not perish, you darling." "I should, if it had not been for him," now giving way. Mrs. Wilder stepped a moment into the other of the two rooms, into which the lower floor of the cabin was divided, and spoke to some one in it; and giving Julia a bowl of hot milk and tea, led her to the inner apartment. "Take care of him;" were her words, as she left, nodding her head towards Barton. "How far is it to Markham's?" asked Bart. "'Bout seven mile round, an' five 'cross." "Have you a horse?" "Fust rate!" "Saddle him, and go to Markham's at once. The father and mother of this girl are frantic: a thousand men are hunting for her; you'll be paid." "I don't want no pay," said Wilder, hurrying out. Five minutes later, sitting on his saddle, he received a slip of paper from Bart. "Who shall I say?" said Wilder, not without curiosity on his own account. "That will tell the Judge all he'll want to know. He will hear my name as soon as he will care to." Wilder dashed off down the forest-road by which Bart and Julia had approached his house. Bart went listlessly into the house. His energy and excitement had suddenly died out, with the exigency which called them forth; his mental glow and physical effort, both wonderful and long-continued to an intense strain, left him, and in the reaction he almost collapsed. Mrs. Wilder offered him one of her husband's coats. He was not cold. She placed a smoking breakfast before him. He loathed its sight and fragrance, and drank a little milk. She knew he was a hero; so young and so handsome, yet a mere boy; his sad, grave face had a wonderful beauty to her, and his manners were so high, and like a gentleman born. She asked him some questions about his finding Julia, and he answered dreamily, and in few words, and seemed hardly to know what he said. "Is Miss Markham asleep?--is she quiet?" Mrs. Wilder stepped to the inner room. "She is," she answered; "nothing seems to ail her but weariness and exhaustion. She will not suffer from it." "Is she alone?" "She is in bed with my daughter Rose." "May I just look at her one moment?" "Certainly."