Who was it--who could it be, that spoke to him with such affectionate solicitude? He gazed and gazed and marvelled,--but it was too dark to see the features of his rescuer. As consciousness grew more vivid, he realised that he was leaning against her bosom like a helpless child,--that the wet grass was all about him,--and that he was cold,--very cold, with a coldness as of some enclosing grave. Sense and memory returned to him slowly with sharp stabs of physical pain, and presently he found utterance. "You are very kind!" he muttered, feebly--"I begin to recollect now--I had walked a long way--and I was caught in the storm--I felt ill,--very ill!--I suppose I must have fallen down here----" "That's it!" said the woman, gently--"Don't try to think about it! You'll be better presently." He closed his eyes wearily,--then opened them again, struck by a sudden self-reproach and anxiety. "The little dog?" he asked, trembling--"The little dog I had with me----?" He saw, or thought he saw, a smile on the face in the darkness. "The little dog's all right,--don't you worry about him!" said the woman--"He knows how to take care of himself and you too! It was just him that brought me along here where I found you. Bless the little soul! He made noise enough for six of his size!" Helmsley gave a faint sigh of pleasure. "Poor little Charlie! Where is he?" "Oh, he's close by! He was almost drowned with the rain, like a poor mouse in a pail of water, but he went on barking all the same! I dried him as well as I could in my apron, and then wrapped him up in my cloak,--he's sitting right in it just now watching me." "If--if I die,--please take care of him!" murmured Helmsley. "Nonsense, dearie! I'm not going to let you die out here on the hills,--don't think it!" said the woman, cheerily,--"I want to get you up, and take you home with me. The storm's well overpast,--if you could manage to move----" He raised himself a little, and tried to see her more closer. "Do you live far from here?" he asked. "Only just on the upper edge of the 'coombe'--not in the village,"--she answered--"It's quite a short way, but a bit steep going. If you lean on me, I won't let you slip,--I'm as strong as a man, and as men go nowadays, stronger than most!" He struggled to rise, and she assisted him. By dint of sheer mental force and determination he got himself on his feet, but his limbs shook violently, and his head swam. "I'm afraid"--he faltered--"I'm afraid I am very ill. I shall only be a trouble to you----" "Don't talk of trouble? Wait till I fetch the doggie!" And, turning from him a moment, she ran to pick up Charlie, who, as she had said, was snugly ensconced in the folds of her cloak, which she had put for him under the shelter of a projecting boulder,--"Could you carry him, do you think?"