through the great pines to the point where the crag jutted out sheer and
massive, overlooking the reaches of rolling country below, when he
lifted his eyes, and just above him, half seated, half reclining against
a ledge of rock, was the very girl he had seen two days before. Her eyes
were closed, and her face was so white that the thought sprang into
Keith's mind that she was dead, and his heart leaped into his throat. At
the distance of a few yards he stopped and scanned her closely. She had
on a riding-habit; her hat had fallen on her neck; her dark hair,
loosened, lay about her throat, increasing the deep pallor of her face.
Keith's pity changed into sorrow. Suddenly, as he leaned forward, his
heart filled with a vague grief, she opened her eyes--as blue as he
remembered them, but now misty and dull. She did not stir or speak, but
gazed at him fixedly for a little space, and then the eyes closed again
wearily, her head dropped over to the side, and she began to sink down.

Gordon sprang forward to keep her from rolling down the bank. As he
gently caught and eased her down on the soft carpeting of pine-needles,
he observed how delicate her features were; the blue veins showed
clearly on her temples and the side of her throat, and her face had that
refinement that unconsciousness often gives.

Gordon knew that the best thing to do was to lower her head and unfasten
her collar. As he loosened the collar, the whiteness of her throat
struck him almost dazzlingly. Instinctively he took the little crumpled
handkerchief that lay on the pine carpet beside her, and spread it over
her throat reverently. He lifted her limp hand gently and felt her
little wrist for her pulse.

Just then her eyelids quivered; her lips moved slightly, stopped, moved
again with a faint sigh; and then her eyelids opened slowly, and again