He could find nothing but a superficial cut near the collar-bone, which had indeed bled freely, but scarcely to such an extent, to judge by appearances, as to have produced insensibility. Further examination disclosed a large bruise on the upper part of the right arm; but this seemed to be the full extent of her injuries. It was not unnatural that Tregenna, knowing the artful character of the woman, should come to the conclusion that she was shamming sick to some extent, and that her injuries were not alone the cause of this excessive prostration. He dismissed his men, therefore, and performed for her the same office that had fallen to him before, by producing his flask of _aqua vitæ_, and holding it to her lips. He did not, however, on this occasion, bestow so much patience or so much tenderness upon her as he had done before. As soon as the men had retired far enough for him not to risk being overheard, he said in her ear— “Come, Jem, ’tis vastly well done, but ’tis wasted on me this time!” Very little to his surprise, she opened her eyes immediately, and said, but in a faint husky voice— “I did but wait till I could speak with you alone, sir. I am dying—I am bleeding within—I know it, I feel it—But I care not. So I die in your arms, or, at least, with you by me, I care naught: I shall die happy!” As she spoke, her great, weird gray eyes unnaturally large in appearance through the drawn expression of her features and the utter absence of color from her cheeks and lips, were fixed intently upon his face. Although he reproached himself for the suspicion, Tregenna did at first ask himself whether this speech, moving as it was meant to be, were not part of the deception she had intended throughout to play upon him. But before he could utter a word in answer, she said, looking at him reproachfully the while— “You doubt me, sir; I can see it in your face! But, tell me, did I not stay the hand of Ben the Blast, when he would have shot you down? Did you not see how I caused his pistol to fall into the water? Wherefore should I have acted so, I, who can fight as well as I— can love, but for some feeling for you which was not that of an enemy.” “’Tis true you saved me from that bullet, and I am grateful, Ann,” said Tregenna. “And I will hope you think too gravely of your own case, and that I may soon be able to send you back on shore. Drink this, drink it, and it will, I hope, put some life into you, some warmth, as it did before!” The reminder brought a tinge of color to Ann’s white face. “Raise my head with your arm then, sir,” said she, “and I will drink, since ’tis you who bid me!” She gave him another long look, passionate, earnest, full of a strange, mysterious pain. Then, having sipped the cordial, she drew a long breath, as if its potency were too great for her in her weakened state, and whispered—