"Poor wretch!" sighed the captain. Then he gave directions to the men to go to the house and bring from there a cot-bed on which they could carry the wounded man without increasing his suffering by unnecessary jolts and jars. All this time Lucilla was standing by her father's side, trembling and weeping. "Oh, papa, I'm afraid he has given his life for mine," she sobbed. "I hope not, dear child," he said; "he is living, and I hope his wound will not prove mortal. In saving my daughter's life he has done me a service that I can never repay, and I hope it is not to cost him his own life." At that moment Chester's eyes opened, and Lucilla never forgot the look of joy and love that he gave her. "Thank God, you are alive and unhurt," he said, in a low tone and gasping for breath. "But, oh, Chester, you are so terribly injured," she sobbed. "I am afraid you are suffering very much." "Don't weep. I can bear it," he said. "My dear fellow, don't try to talk any more now," said the captain. "I have sent for one or more of our doctors, and here come my men with a cot-bed to carry you to Woodburn, where you must stay until you are entirely well." "You are most kind, captain," murmured the half-fainting young man, "but----" "No, no; don't try to talk. I can never repay you for saving my child," the captain said with emotion. Chester's only reply was a look at Lucilla that seemed to say that nothing could be too costly if done for her. "And, oh, what a debt of gratitude I owe you!" she exclaimed. "I can never repay it." "Dearest, I would give my life for yours at any time," he responded. The words and the look that accompanied them were a revelation to Lucilla. The look of a moment before had surprised her, and raised a question in her mind as to just what she was to him; but there was no mistaking this. He loved her; loved her well enough to die in her stead. But the men were at hand with the cot, and under the captain's direction the wounded man was lifted carefully and tenderly, laid upon it, and carried to the house, the captain on his horse, and Lucilla on her pony, following closely. In the meantime Violet and Christine had made ready a bed in the room occupied by Captain Raymond at the time of his injury from being thrown by Thunderer, and there they laid Chester, just as Drs. Arthur Conly and Harold Travilla arrived, having come with all possible haste at the summons sent by the captain. Violet, Lucilla, and Grace, seated on the veranda, anxiously awaited the doctors' verdict. It was Harold who brought it at length. "The wound is a serious one," he said in reply to their looks of earnest inquiry; "but we have succeeded in removing the ball, and do not by any means despair of his life." "Oh, I hope he will recover," sobbed Lucilla; "for if he does not, I shall always feel that he has given his life for mine."