"Give him time," I said, "and let us see what cold water will do." Crawling out into the open, I leaned over the pool and, filling my bonnet with water, returned to the cave and sprinkled the minister’s face copiously. I saw his eyelids flicker as the first cold drop touched his forehead, and a few minutes later he moved one of his hands. "He’s recovering," I said, and taking off my coat I folded it and placed it beneath his head. We waited in great anxiety, and by and by saw other signs of returning vitality. The better part of an hour had elapsed before the minister endeavoured to raise himself upon his elbow, an effort which we gently resisted. Immediately afterwards, with eyes staring up to the roof of the cave, he said: "Where am I? What has happened?" I motioned to Hector to reply. "Oh, ye’re a’ richt, and we are frien’s. Ha’e nae fear. Settle yoursel’ doon, if ye can, for a sleep: and when you ha’e rested we’ll tell you everything." Without demur the minister closed his eyes again, and we were able to tell from his regular breathing that he had fallen asleep. Hector rose, whispering behind his hand: "If you’ll sit by the minister I’ll close the door," and he crawled noiselessly through the aperture and returned, pushing his pack before him, and then closed the opening, cutting off the thin shaft of daylight that had been coming through it. About an hour later the minister stirred in his sleep, and turning over upon his side opened his eyes and looked at me inquiringly. Hector produced the bottle of Malvoisie with which we had refreshed ourselves on the roadside, and held it to the minister’s lips. "This will refresh you," he said, and without protest he drank. He made some attempt to speak, but Hector forbade him. "No, no, sir, haud yer wheesht a wee langer. Dinna fash yoursel’. We are your frien’s. Ha’e nae fear and settle yoursel’ to sleep." Like an obedient child, the minister did so. The day passed and still the patient slept. By and by Hector went to the mouth of the cave and peered through one of the chinks between the rocks. "The nicht has come," he said. "It’s time we were bedded." Taking up the candle, he searched the floor of the cave. "Dae ye think," he asked, "we daur lift the minister? Here’s his bed," and he pointed to a heap of withered brackens in a corner. I suggested that it might be an easier thing to carry his bed to the minister, and, stooping down, I gathered up an armful of the leaves, which I spread upon the floor beside him. So gently that he did not stir we lifted the minister on to it, and once more I slipped my folded coat under his head for a pillow. Hector drew off his coat and spread it over the minister’s chest, then seizing a corner of his pack he pulled it up, scattering the contents in a jumbled heap on the floor, and spread the canvas covering over the lower part of the minister’s body.