He laughed, touched his hat again and hurried on, while Elithe resumed her reading. It was very close and warm in her room, and when she had Pharaoh and his 600 chosen chariots ready to pursue after the children of Israel she let down her window from the top and leaned far out to get a breath of fresh air. It was light enough to see objects distinctly, and at a distance of a dozen rods or more she saw Paul Ralston standing with his face turned partly from her and towards a thick clump of shrubbery which lay in the shadow. What was he doing there, and why had he come back so soon? she wondered, and was about to call and ask him if he had found Jack, when she saw him take something from his side pocket and examine it. What it was she could not tell, except that it was bright like silver. Just then there was a stir in the undergrowth of shrubbery, and a sound like some animal running. Before she had time for further thought the object in Paul’s hand was lowered to nearly a level with the ground. There was a flash, a report, and a loud cry of pain from the clump of oaks, which were violently agitated as if shaken by some one in mortal agony; then all was still. For a moment Elithe stood frozen with horror, and saw Paul throw the weapon from him and hurry into the woods. “Oh, Auntie! Mr. Ralston has shot some one!” she cried, running down the stairs and out to where the group, which had been sitting on the steps, were now standing upon the grass and looking to see where the shot came from. “Mr. Ralston? How do you know it was Mr. Ralston? And where is he?” Miss Hansford asked, and Elithe replied, “I saw him. He threw the revolver away and went into the woods. Come quick; I am sure somebody is hurt. I heard a groan. There, it comes again.” She was leading the way to the clump of thick bushes, or stunted trees, where, when a boy, Jack Percy had waited while Paul carried the melon to Miss Hansford and had dreamed that he was dead. Here he was lying now, his hand grasping his valise, his face turned on one side, and the blood trickling from a bullet hole above his temple. Several of the cottagers had heard the report and were out to ascertain its cause, so that it was quite a little crowd of people which met around the spot, Miss Hansford the most excited of them all. Pushing Elithe back so violently that she nearly fell to the ground, she stooped over the prostrate man and said in a choking voice, “It’s Jack Percy; but he is not dead; he must not die. Take him to my cottage.” As the men stood for a moment paralyzed and did not offer to touch him, she lifted his head herself and with her handkerchief tried to stanch the blood which gushed from the wound and saturated his hair. “Somebody go for a doctor—quick,” she said. “Tell him it’s a case of life and death.” Elithe heard and started like a deer across the field to the nearest doctor, whom she found just leaving his house for a walk.