He stopped—­remembering—­and looked down at Ruth.  She had not heard what he said.  She was bending closer to Paul’s white face and listening to his laboring breath.

“We must get him home as quickly as possible,” the attorney-general went on.  “My duty at Duff’s Fort must wait on this.  And I am not sacrificing the state to a friend, or to gratitude.  It would be worse than useless to go on to-night, now that our plans are betrayed.  I am very anxious about my men.  They should be here before now.  According to our plans, they should have been within hearing of the first sound of trouble and ready to come at once.  I am afraid they, too, have fallen into a trap; but I can’t do anything now for them, and I must do my best for this poor fellow, and quickly, too.  Come, Father,—­come, David,—­let us consult as to the best way to get him home.”

The three men drew a little apart and stood talking together in a low tone, so that Ruth was left for a moment alone with Paul.

“Dear heart!” she breathed, with her cheek against his.  “Listen, love.  Can you hear what I say?  Try.  Try hard.  For if you can hear, maybe my heart will not break.  Listen, then,” as softly as if her spirit spoke to his.  “Listen.  I am yours and you are mine.  Can you hear—­dear heart?  If you live or if you die—­it is just the same—­always—­to me and to you.  We belong to one another forever.”

XX

BALANCING LIFE AND DEATH

While they consulted, several of the attorney-general’s men galloped up.  They had been delayed and sent astray by a false message purporting to come from him.  But they had met with no harm and were now in time to help in lifting the wounded man’s helpless weight into the priest’s saddle.  This was the best plan that could be devised in haste, and Father Orin hastily mounted behind the unconscious body, to hold it in place.  He being much the strongest among the men, the duty naturally fell to him.  It was also natural that the double burden should be laid upon Toby, because the heaviest burdens of life are always laid upon those who are readiest to bear them.

And Toby appeared to feel his responsibility, for, setting out at a rapid pace, which seemed to show that he knew the need of haste, he yet moved with so steady a step that Father Orin did not require the aid of the other hands which were held out to help him.  Nevertheless, every hand was constantly in readiness, and all kept close together; so that thus moving through the dim light, the shadowy mounted figures looked like some fabulous monster of gigantic size and with many arms, all extended toward a common burden.  But the pony kept closest to Toby’s side and in the gloom that followed the going down of the Hunter’s Moon, a trembling little hand stole out now and then, to touch the still, cold one which swung so pathetically over Father Orin’s strong arm.