“DICK INSISTED,” explained Corporal Bracknell, as with Joy and her foster-sister and the boy Jim he fled down the river. “I could see he wanted the post of danger—and I could not refuse. Sibou is with him, and I think they will hold the pursuit.”

For a moment Joy did not speak. She was thinking of the consideration Dick Bracknell had shown to her during the last two days, and understood quite well that now he was endeavouring to atone for the wrong he had once done her. Pity surged in her heart as she thought of him weak and ill, holding back a horde of savage men, pity and gratitude, but no warmer emotion, for Dick Bracknell had killed all possibility of that in that moment at Alcombe, when, on her marriage morning she had made that startling discovery of his perfidy.

“Do you think that—that Dick will get away also?” she asked at last.

“I hope so,” the corporal answered evasively. “I made him promise not to stay too long. But he is a sick man and in the mood for anything. I believed he rejoiced at the prospect of a fight against odds. It is not surprising and—— Listen! There they go again. They were both together that time.”

[270]

From time to time as they raced hot-foot down the trail the reports of rifles reached them, and they knew that the fight was still proceeding, and that the two defenders were holding their own. Once when the interval between the shots was especially long, Corporal Bracknell’s face grew very thoughtful, and so absorbed and intent was he that Joy addressed a question to him twice before he heard her.

“Corporal Bracknell, do you think that Dick can recover from his sickness?”

“I am afraid not,” replied the corporal slowly, then gave an ejaculation as the distant report of a rifle broke the silence behind them. “Good! They’re still keeping it up.”

“Why do you think that?” she asked.

“Because I have seen other men like it. I have never known one to recover.”

“Do ... do you think Dick knows?”

“Yes,” he answered quietly. “I am sure of it!”

“It is very pitiful,” she said. “He is not all bad——”

“He is very far from being that,” interrupted the corporal.

“He might have made good, even yet, if he were not so sick.”

“Perhaps he is making good,” replied the corporal gently.

“Yes,” she answered simply. “I think he is trying. In spite of the past I shall be in his debt. Ah! What is that?”

There had been a sudden increase of clamour behind them. Distant yells were sounding, and the[271] two rifles were firing in rapid succession. For perhaps a minute and a half this went on, then came silence, followed by a single shot, and that again by a silence which remained unbroken. Corporal Bracknell stopped irresolutely.

“What do you think?” Joy whispered.

“I think it is the end one way or the other,” was the reply. “The last yell sounded as if the Indians were charging. In that case, unless the rush was stopped——”

“Dick and your man are dead?”

“Something of that kind. I think I must go back, and try and learn what has happened. There is nothing else for it. I simply can’t desert them without knowing what has befallen. You keep right on until you reach the main river—I will not be longer than necessary.”

“We shall wait at the fork,” she answered quickly.

“But——”

“We shall wait,” she repeated resolutely, and taking a rifle from one of the sleds, she handed it to him.

“You may need it,” she said quietly. “And we have one left yet.”

He did not speak, but nodding his thanks, turned in the tracks, and proceeded up river once more. He went swiftly but cautiously; and after travelling half an hour, caught sight of a lumpy shadow coming down the river. Hastily he took refuge against the bank, and waited with his rifle ready. The shadow drew nearer, and then he perceived that it was made up of two men, one riding on the back of[272] the other. At the same time he caught the sound of a protesting voice—

“It’s not worth while, old horse. Put me down and quit. They say——”

A moment later Roger Bracknell was running towards them.

“Dick! Dick!” he cried gladly.

“Where ... where ... are the girls ... Joy?” asked his cousin in a voice that sounded harsh.

“They are all right. They are well in front!”

“Good!” There was a note of relief in Dick Bracknell’s voice, as he spoke, then he gave a little laugh. “Behold the victors! Roger, my son, it was topping. We stood a charge and ... and cleared the board. It was gorgeous.”

He laughed weakly, and his cousin looked at him anxiously.

“But you are hurt, Dick, old man?”

“Plugged ... with an arrow ... in the ribs. Sibou’s all right, though. And I tried to make him ... leave me ... on the field of glory. B—but he’s a mutinous beggar.”

Weak though he was, there was a reckless gaiety in his manner, which almost moved the corporal to tears.

“Dick, don’t you think you had better not talk? It’s bound to try you, as you are. When we get to the sleds I will look to your wound, and——”

“Not a bit of use, Roger, my boy! I know it, you know it! This finishes me. It was a matter of weeks, before; now it’s a matter of hours.... All the same ... I’d like to ... to see Joy, b-before——”

[273]

“You shall, if it’s to be done,” said his cousin as the other’s voice broke. “I’ll take turns with Sibou. Between us we’ll do it, somehow. And I might as well take part of my share now. Sibou must be fagged.”

They stopped and the transfer was effected, then as they resumed their way, the wounded man leaned over his cousin’s shoulder, and whispered—

“Roger you’re a good sort!”

The corporal made no response, and Dick Bracknell continued, “You know that Joy was up here looking for you?”

“The boy, Jim, told me so. Though why she should——”

“She ... she came to tell you that ... Geoff was dead ... that you are the heir of Harrow Fell——”

“No! No!” broke out his cousin in sharp protest.

“Yes! Yes! It is so. I’ve been out of it since—oh, for years! And in any case ... I shall be out of it ... altogether very soon. But it wasn’t for that only ... Joy came. She came up here to stop you from killing me ... knowing the relation between us, she was afraid that if that happened, people would say that you ... that you.... You understand?”

“Yes, I think I understand.”

“Such a possibility was rather rot, of course, but Joy didn’t know that, and she knew that you were after me. So—she’s pure gold, Joy is.”

“Yes,” agreed the corporal simply.

[274]

“You’ll marry her, of course, and go to ... to the Fell?”

Roger Bracknell hesitated. The conversation was inexpressibly painful to him, and to this question he did not know what answer to make. His cousin did not seem to notice the hesitation,............