again from his bosom, and read it, whisperingly, for a time; then fell to
musing, and, after a considerable time, knelt down as if in prayer.
While he knelt, the girl, as if startled from her sleep by some inner
shock, opened her eyes wide and looked at him, first with bewilderment,
then with anxiety, then with wistful thankfulness. "Oh, I thought--
I thought when I awoke before that it was a woman. But it is the good
Father Corraine--Corraine, yes, that was the name."

The priest's clean-shaven face, long hair, and black cassock had, in her
first moments of consciousness, deceived her. Now a sharp pain brought
a moan to her lips; and this drew the priest's attention. He rose, and
brought her some food and drink. "My daughter," he said, "you must take
these." Something in her face touched his sensitive mind, and he said,
solemnly: "You are alone with me and God, this hour. Be at peace. Eat."

Her eyes swam with instant tears. "I know--I am alone--with God," she
said. Again he gently urged the food upon her, and she took a little;
but now and then she put her hand to her side as if in pain. And once,
as she did so, she said: "I've far to go and the pain is bad. Did they
take him away?"

Father Corraine shook his head. "I do not know of whom you speak," he
replied. "When I went to my door this morning I found you lying there.
I brought you in, and, finding no sign of life in you, sent Featherfoot,
my Indian, to Fort Cypress for a trooper to come; for I feared that there
had been ill done to you, somehow. This border-side is but a rough
country. It is not always safe for a woman to travel alone."

The girl shuddered. "Father," she said "Father Corraine, I believe you
are?" (Here the priest bowed his head.) "I wish to tell you all, so