My years of outdoor life in Denboro had had one good effect at least; they had made me strong.I carried her with little effort to the bridge.And there I stopped.The bridge was blocked, covered with a mass of wet leafy branches and splintered wood.The lightning bolt had missed us by just that much.It had overthrown and demolished the big willow tree by the brook and to get through or over the tangle was impossible.
So again history repeated itself.I descended the bank at the side of the bridge and waded through the waters with Mabel Colton in my arms.I staggered up the opposite bank and hurried on.She lay quiet, her head against my shoulder.Her hat had fallen off and a wet, fragrant strand of her hair brushed my cheek.Once I stopped and bent my head to listen, to make sure that she was breathing.
She was, I felt her breath upon my face.Afterwards I remembered all this; just then I was merely thankful that she was alive.
I had gone but a little way further when she stirred in my arms and spoke.
"What is it?" she asked."What is the matter?""Nothing," I answered, with a sigh of relief."It is all right.
We shall be there soon."
"But what is the matter? Why are you--let me walk, please.""You had better stay as you are.You are almost home.""But why are you carrying me? What is the matter?""You--you fainted, I think.The lightning--""Oh yes, I remember.Did I faint? How ridiculous! Please let me walk now.I am all right.Really I am.""But I think--"
"Please.I insist."
I set her gently on her feet.She staggered a little, but she was plucky and, after a moment, was able to stand and walk, though slowly.
"You are sure you can manage it?" I asked.
"Of course! But why did I faint? I never did such a thing before in my life.""That flash was close to us.It struck the big willow by the brook.""Did it! As near as that?"
"Yes.Don't try to talk."
"But I am all right...I am not hurt at all.Are we almost home?""Yes.Those are the lights of your house ahead there."We moved on more rapidly.As we turned in at the Colton walk she said, "Why; it has stopped raining."It had, though I had not noticed it.The flash which smashed the willow had been the accompaniment of what Lute would call the "clearing-up shower." The storm was really over.
We stepped up on the portico of the big house and I rang the bell.
The butler opened the door.His face, as he saw the pair of dripping, bedraggled outcasts before him, was worth looking at.He was shocked out of his dignity.
"Why! Why, Miss Mabel!" he stammered, with almost human agitation.
"What--"
A voice, a petulant female voice, called from the head of the stairs.
"Johnson," it quavered, "who is it? Mabel, is that you?"The library door flew open and Mr.Colton himself appeared.
"Eh? What?" he exclaimed."By George! Mabel, where have you been? I have been raising heaven and earth to locate you.The 'phone seems to be out of order and-- Great Scott, girl! you're wet through.Jenkins, what--? Hey? Why, it isn't Jenkins!"The fact that his daughter's escort was not the coachman had just dawned upon him.He stared at me in irate bewilderment.Before he could ask a question or his daughter could speak or explain there came a little shriek from the stairs, a rustle of silken skirts, and a plump, white-faced woman in an elaborate house gown rushed across the hall with both white arms outstretched.
"Mabel!" she cried, "where HAVE you been.You poor child! I have been almost beside myself, and--"Miss Colton laughingly avoided the rush."Take care, Mother," she warned."I am very wet.""Wet? Why! you're absolutely drenched! Jenkins-- Mabel, where is Jenkins? And who is this--er--person?"I thought it quite time for me to withdraw.
"Good night, Miss Colton," I said, and stepped toward the door.
But "Big Jim" roared my name.
"It's that--it's Paine!" he exclaimed."Here! what does this mean, anyway?"I think his daughter was about to explain, when there came another interruption.From the driveway sounded the blare of an auto horn.
Johnson threw open the door just as the big car whirled up to the porch.
"Here we are!" laughed Carver, emerging from behind the drawn curtains of the machine."Home again from a foreign shore.Come in, fellows, and have a drink.We've had water enough for one night.Come in."He stumbled as he crossed the sill, recovered his balance, laughed, and then all at once seemed to become aware of the group in the hall.He looked about him, swaying a little as he did so.
"Ah, Mabel!" he exclaimed, genially."Got here first, didn't you?
Sorry I was late, but it was all old Parker's fault.Wouldn't let us say goodby.But we came some when we did come.The bridge is down and we made Oscar run her right through the water.Great ex-experience.Hello! Why, what's matter? Who's this? What? it's Reuben, isn't it! Mabel, what on earth--"She paid no attention to him.I was at the door when she overtook me.
"Mr.Paine," she said, "I am very grateful for your kindness.Both for what you have done tonight and for your help the other afternoon.Thank you."She held out her hand.I took it, scarcely knowing that I did so.
"Thank you," she said, again.I murmured something or other and went out.As I stepped from the porch I heard Victor's voice.
"Well, by Jove!" he exclaimed."Mabel!"
I looked back.He was standing by the door.She went past him without replying or even looking at him.From the automobile Iheard smothered chuckles and exclamations.The butler closed the door.
I walked home as fast as I could.Dorinda was waiting up for me.
What she said when she saw the ruin of my Sunday suit had better not be repeated.She was still saying it when I took my lamp and went up to bed.
