before the lieutenant could move, Ranald lifted Maimie in his arms, as if she had been an infant, and bore her down to the river's edge, and laid her on the grassy bank. Then, taking up a double handful of water, he dashed it in her face. With a little sigh she opened her eyes, and letting them rest upon his face, said, gently, “Oh, Ranald, I am so glad you--I am so sorry I have been so bad to you.” She could say no more, but from her closed eyes two great tears made their way down her pale cheeks. “Oh, Maimie, Maimie,” said Ranald, in a broken voice, “tell me you are not hurt.” Again she opened her eyes and said, “No, I am not hurt, but you will take me home; you will not leave me!” Her fingers closed upon his hand. With a quick, strong clasp, he replied: “I will not leave you.” In a few minutes she was able to sit up, and soon they were all about her, exclaiming and lamenting. “What a silly girl I am,” she said, with a little tremulous laugh, “and what a fright I must have given you all!” “Don't rise, my dear,” said Madame De Lacy, “until you feel quite strong.” “Oh, I am quite right,” said Maimie, confidently; “I am sure I am not hurt in the least.” “Oh, I am so thankful!” cried Kate. “It is the Lord's mercy,” said Ranald, in a voice of deep emotion. “Are you quite sure you are not hurt?” said Harry, anxiously. “Yes, I really think I am all right, but what a fright I must look!” “Thank God!” said Harry fervently; “I guess you're improving,” at which they all laughed. “Now I think we must get home,” said Madame De Lacy. “Do you think you can walk, Maimie?” “Oh, yes,” cried Maimie, and taking Ranald's hand, she tried to stand up, but immediately sank back with a groan. “Oh, it is my foot,” she said, “I am afraid it is hurt.” “Let me see!” cried Harry. “I don't think it is broken,” he said, after feeling it carefully, “but I have no doubt it is a very bad sprain. You can't walk for certain.” “Then we shall have to carry her,” said Madame De Lacy, and she turned to her son. “I fear I can offer no assistance,” said the lieutenant, pointing to his arm which was hanging limp at his side. “Why, Albert, are you hurt? What is the matter? You are hurt!” cried his mother, anxiously. “Not much, but I fear my arm is useless. You might feel it,” he said to Ranald. Carefully Ranald passed his hand down the arm. “Say nothing,” whispered the lieutenant to him. “It's broken. Tie it up some way.” Without a word Ranald stripped the bark of a birch tree, and making a case, laid the arm in it and bound it firmly with his silk handkerchief. “We ought to have a sling,” he said, turning to Kate. “Here,” said Madame De Lacy, untying a lace scarf from her neck, “take this.” Kate took the scarf, and while Ranald held the arm in place she deftly made it into a sling. “There,” said the lieutenant, “that feels quite comfortable. Now let's go.” “Come, Maimie, I'll carry you up the hill,” said Harry.