Mr.

"Benjamin
coatless, his shirt in shreds. The mighty draft of air from the open door killed the
sickly candle-flame, but not before they had seen each other. For the second
time that night she lost consciousness. At the bottom of a deep ravine lay the
body of Courant. He had fled from before the two adversaries after a vain
attempt to reenter the room below the church and had blindly dashed over the
cliff. Turk, with more charity than Courant had shown not many hours before,
climbed down the dangerous steep, and, in horror, touched his quivering hand.
Then came the last gasp. XXIX DOROTHY'S SOLUTION Quentin carried
her forth into the night. When Turk came upon him in the darkness a few minutes
later, he was wandering about the hilltop, the limp figure of the woman he loved in
his arms, calling upon her to speak to him, to forgive him. The little man checked
him just in time to prevent an ugly fall over a steep embankment. "My God, she's
dead, Turk!" he groaned, placing her tenderly on the grassy sward and supporting
her head with his arm. "The wretch has killed her." "He's paid for it, if he did. I
guess it’s nothin' but a faint er a fit. Does she have fits?" demanded Turk,
earnestly. Quentin paid no heed to him, but feverishly began working with her,
hope springing from Turk's surmise. "Turk, if she dies, l swear to God I’ll kill myself
this night!" cried he. "You're talkin' crazy, sir. She's comin' around all right, all
right. Hear that? Her eyes'll be busy in a minute, and she'll be askin' where she's
at. Just keeled over, that's all. All women does that w'en they git's as glad as she
wuz. They faint 'cause it's easier'n it is to tell how much obliged they are. I know
'em. They pass up hard jobs like that ontil they gits time t' look all pale an'
nterestin' an' tuckered-out, an' then they ain't no use sayin' much obliged, 'cause
th' man won't stand fer it a minute" Turk was kneeling opposite Quentin and was
scratching match after match, holding them above the pale face until they burnt
his finger tips. When Dorothy at last opened her eyes she looked into the most
terrifying face she had ever seen, and, as the lids dosed again spasmodically, a
moan came from her lips. Turk's bristled face was covered with blood that had
dried hours ago, and he was a most uncanny object to look upon.''Darn me, she's
askeert of my mug! I'll duck ontil you puts her nex'.'' ''Look up Dorothy! It is Phil!
Don't be afraid, dearest; you are safe!" He knew that her eyes were open again.