His hands were busy with his task, and his brain was more active than ever, as he felt now that he had won this victory, and that the effort to bring the poor fellow back to life and strength would now be an easy one; little more than good nursing would suffice. Why, then, could he not win in that other fight? She was right; that could never be; and he seemed now to be suffering a rude awakening from the strange, dreamy time through which he had passed--awakening to the fact that he had lapsed into a faithless scoundrel, he who had believed himself all that was manly and true. An hour before, he had felt that nothing could drag him from Marion's side. He loved her more than he could have believed possible, but it could never be. He was awake once more, and now that the peril was past he must go. "Hah!" he said softly, as he finished his task and the old housekeeper rose to bear away sponge, basin and towel, "head cooler, more susceptible of touch. A hard fight, but I win. An error of judgment? No; I did all possible. The probe revealed nothing. I saw no bullet, or I might have known." Everything else had passed away for the moment in the pride of his satisfaction--the triumph of life over death--and he stood with one hand resting on the back of the couch, the other upon his left hip, as he bent over his patient, whose breath came softly, and there was a restful look in the thin white face. Then he started round, for there was a light touch upon his arm, and he was face to face with Marion once more, her head bent forward, her wild eyes searching his. "Is--is it true?" she whispered excitedly. "She told me as she went out--you did not speak." "Yes; quite true," cried Chester. "No wonder, poor fellow, that he made no advance. But there, we have won, and a day or two's nursing will be all he wants. Now you can feel at rest." "Feel--at rest?" "Of course; there is no disease. Weakness is the only trouble now." "Weakness the only trouble now! Rob--Rob--my own dear boy!" She sank upon her knees, and as he saw her action, Chester tried to check her. But she gave him a reproachful glance, and passed her soft white arms about the patient's head, but without touching him; and the loving kiss she breathed, as it were, upon his lips. Then she rose, sobbing gently, with all the strength of her mind and force of action seeming to have passed away, as with outstretched hands she caught at the nearest object to save herself from falling. That nearest object was Chester; and the next moment she was weeping in his arms. "You have given him back to me," she sobbed, her voice little above a whisper. "You have saved him. How can I ever repay you for what you have done?" The minute before he had been strong; now as he felt the sobs rising from the labouring breast, and clasped her throbbing, palpitating form closer and--closer,--"Marion!"