shell-like tinge of color crept back to the marble whiteness of Marie's face—the doctor gave a little exclamation, and went on with his work harder than before. 

Feathers asked him a harsh question: 

"Can we save her?" 

"I think so—yes! . . ." 

Each moment seemed an eternity, until, with labored, choking breaths and little gasping cries, Marie struggled back to life and the golden summer morning. 

Feathers rose to his feet. "I'll go on and tell her husband. You're sure she's out of danger?" 

The doctor smiled, well pleased. 

"Oh, she's all right now." He turned to the stretcher upon which they had laid the girl, and Feathers started to walk away, but the crowd would not have this. They surged round him, slapping him on the back and cheering him to the echo. They were only too eager and willing to give praise where it was due, and at last, in desperation, Feathers broke into a run and eluded them. 

He went into the hotel across the garden, and through a side door, his dripping clothes leaving little wet marks all the way. He met one of the porters in the passage. The man stopped with a gasp of dismay. 

"Good heavens, sir! Has there been an accident?" 

"Yes, one of the ladies here, a Mrs. Lawless, but she's all right 43 now. Can you find her husband for me? He's probably in the writing- room. Do you know him?" 

43

"Oh, yes, sir, but . . ." 

"Well, clear off and fetch him, then! I'm all right—don't make a fuss. They're bringing her here. Hurry, man, hurry!" 

He was back in a moment with Chris, looking greatly mystified and not at all upset, for the porter had been afraid to tell him the truth of what had happened, and had merely said he was wanted. 

Feathers explained in a few words. 

"Mrs. Lawless got out of her depths or got cramp or something, but she's all right. She had a nasty scare, though. It's all right; they're bringing her along." 

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