Nathalie immediately rushed to impart this news to her mother, with the result that, a half-hour later, Danny and Tony, each with a basket filled with food, started up the mountain-trail. In his pocket Danny carried a note written by Mrs. Page, in which she not only thanked the young man again for his kindness to Sheila, but made it clear that the food came from the child, a thank offering to him, and that she hoped he would find it acceptable, as she knew that it must be a difficult matter to obtain much food up there on the mountain top. Some time later the two boys returned in a state of great excitement. They claimed that they had found the young man asleep on the couch, and although they had tried to awaken him, and had “hollered and hollered right into his ear,” as Danny expressed it, he had not even stirred. The faces of the listeners grew grave as they heard this, and Janet, with a sudden sharp exclamation, turned and rushed up-stairs, to reappear in a moment with a medicine-case and her hat. Her training as a district nurse was now to be put to a real test. “I just believe that boy has been starved to death,” she ejaculated, her blue eyes luminous with sympathy, “for I could see by the look of him last night that he was in a bad way.” Of course Nathalie would not let Janet go alone, and so the two girls and the boys again hurried up the mountain to the cabin, where they found the young man not dead, as Nathalie had vaguely feared, but in a state of unconsciousness. Under Janet’s able ministrations he was finally brought to, and after Nathalie had warmed some broth—Danny had made a fire in the open—it was gently fed to him by Janet. As Nathalie watched her, she opened her eyes in amazement at the girl’s deftness and gentleness in handling her charge, for this indeed was a new phase of her cousin’s character. Won by the girls’ sympathy and interest, Philip de Brie—as that proved to be the young man’s name—said he had been wounded at the battle of Loos, and then wounded again and taken a prisoner at the battle of the Somme. After many months, under most harrowing circumstances, he had made his escape, and finally reached England, only to find that his mother had died in the meantime. “As I was alone,” there was a perceptible quiver in his voice,—“my father had died when I was a lad,—I decided to come over here.