“I will if you’ll keep on talking yourself. The sound of your voice soothes me like the murmuring of a brook. Your eyes are like springtime violets. The touch of your little hand is as delicious as a draft of pure water to a person dying of thirst. Now I’ll leave it to you if a Reginald could beat that speech much.” She stiffened and drew back a bit, the color beginning to return to her pale cheeks. They looked at each other steadily, and the returning flush covered her face. Beyond the fence the victorious bull pawed the ground; from a vantage of safety the old dog glared through the rails and regarded the bull with disapproval, but the man and girl paid no attention to either of them. The girl had turned her gaze toward the distant road that wound down into the village. “I don’t believe you are hurt much,” she said, in a low voice, which, however, was made unsteady by a queer little throbbing in her throat. “If you were, you couldn’t talk like that.” “It’s because I am that I can talk like that,” he declared. “It’s the first time I ever talked that way to any one.” “Your friends who have to get to Albion,” she murmured; “I’m afraid they’ll lose their train.” “By Jove!” he cried, sitting up suddenly. “I’d clean forgotten them!” “You were fooling me!” she exclaimed, as she started to rise. With a groan he fell back. The crimson, oozing from his wound, ran down across his temple, and in another moment she was again checking the flow with her handkerchief. His eyes were closed, and she imagined he had fainted. “Oh, dear!” She seemed distraught. “I don’t know what to do! I’ve got to get help, but if I leave you, you may bleed to death.” “Don’t let me bleed to death,” he begged faintly. “Don’t leave me—Bessie. You mustn’t leave me—as long as I live.” It seemed a great effort for him to lift his eyelids, but he looked at her again, and the appeal in his eyes filled her with a feeling of desperation. “You must have a doctor.” “You’re the only doctor I want. You’re the only doctor who can cure me. If you throw up the case and turn me over to a common pill slinger, I’ll never get over it.” “But I’ve simply got to get help for you somehow. I’ll hurry.” “I can’t let you go. I’m an awful coward, you know, and——” “You’re nothing of the sort! I’ve never seen anybody as brave as you are.” A tremor ran over his body. At first she thought it was a convulsive movement of pain, but when it continued she was overcome by the astounding conviction that he was laughing. Astonishment gave place to outraged indignation. There was no mistaking the fact that he was really shaking with laughter that he sought in vain to suppress. She leaped up, letting him drop back, and stood rigid, filled with intense resentment.