With the necessity for help came strength; she flew down to the burn and dipped her handkerchief in water, bathed his mouth and eyes and forehead, and then, seeing how he lay, all of a heap, she gently moved him so that he might breathe more easily, then she knelt and prayed with all her heart. It seemed long before he showed any signs of life, and the poor child was getting very nervous and very anxious; she could not leave him alone there, she thought, till she knew how it would be; and she went on dabbing his face and hands, with a very faint hope of his responding to her efforts. But at last life, that had been so nearly shaken out from the great massive frame, began to tingle once more through his veins, and, after a long shuddering sigh and a smothered exclamation of pain, his eyes opened and stared back at hers in complete bewilderment. He had heard her praying. "I saw you fall; there was no one else; are you very much hurt?" said Margaret, anxiously, all in one breath. "I am afraid I am," he answered, and the deep tones of his voice were full of suppressed pain. "Can you move at all? Should you be afraid of being left? Shall I go for help?" He struggled for self-command; it was evident the pain was almost overmastering him, and Margaret's heart was so full of compassion she had no longer room for nervousness. She was touched beyond measure when she noticed that in the midst of all his suffering he thought of her, and that he was trying to suppress all signs of what he was enduring. He could not speak for a moment or two, then he said hurriedly, "My men are looking out for me. If you can, tie a handkerchief to my stick. They were to pick me up here." In a moment or two he said, "If you do not mind staying--till--they come--" and to poor Margaret's dismay he went off again into insensibility. She acted as he had told her and had the comfort of seeing a boat come off. She did not notice from which ship it came, but she hurried back to his side, and renewed her efforts with her dripping pocket-handkerchief. Then, when the men were landing, she went down to the shore towards them and told them there had been an accident; and, in a moment or two, the unfortunate hero of the adventure was surrounded by strong arms, and evidently anxious helpers, and Margaret glided away. She felt very tired as she walked homewards. Anxiety is always a much greater fatigue than physical exertion, and she drooped as she reached the hotel. Then she dragged herself upstairs and was pleased to find herself alone with Mrs. Dorriman.