He kept whispering it to himself, as if thus he would impress it the more forcibly upon the unconscious Edith, who lay upon the withered grass just where Nina had lain, rigid and white and free for the present from all suffering.  Arthur could not move; the blow had fallen on them both with a mightier force than even he had anticipated, killing her he feared, and so benumbing himself that to act was impossible, and he continued sitting upon the log with his elbows resting on his knees and his face upon his hands.  Only Nina had any reason then or judgment.  Hastening to Edith she knelt beside her, and lifting up her head pillowed it upon her lap, wiping from her temple the drops of blood slowly trickling from a cut, made by a sharp stone.

“Miggie, Miggie,” she cried, “wake up.  You scare me, you look so white and stiff.  Please open your eyes, darling, just a little ways, so Nina’ll know that you ain’t dead.  Oh, Arthur, she is dead!” and Nina shrieked aloud, when, opening herself the lids, she saw the dull, fixed expression of the glassy eye.

Laying her back upon the grass, she crept to Arthur’s side, and tried to rouse him, saying imploringly, “Miggie’s dead, Arthur; Miggie’s dead.  There is blood all over her face.  It’s on me, too, look,” and she held before him her fingers, covered with a crimson stain.  Even this did not move him; he only kissed the tiny hand wet with Edith’s blood, and whispered to her, “Richard.”

It was enough.  Nina comprehended his meaning at once; and when next he looked about him she was flying like a deer across the fields to Collingwood, leaving him alone with Edith.  From where he sat he could see her face, and its corpse-like pallor chilled him with horror.  He must go to her.  It would be long ere Nina guided the blind man to the spot, and, exerting all his strength, he tottered to the brook, filled his hat with water, and crawling, rather than walking, to Edith’s side, dashed it upon her head, washing the stains of blood, away, and forcing back the life so nearly gone.  Gradually the eyes unclosed, and looked into his with a glance so full of love. tenderness, reproach, and cruel disappointment, that he turned away, for he could not meet that look.

The blood from the wound upon the forehead was flowing freely now, and faint from its loss, Edith sank again into a state of unconsciousness, while Arthur, scarcely knowing what he did, crept away to a little distance, where, leaning against a tree, he sat insensible as it were, until the sound of footsteps roused him, and he saw Nina coming, holding fast to the blind man’s wrist, and saying to him encouragingly,

“We are almost there.  I see her dress now by the bank.  Wake up, Miggie; we’re coming—­Richard and I. Don’t you hear me, Miggie?”

* * * * * *

Victor had been sent to the village upon an errand for Richard, who was sitting in his arm-chair, just where Edith had left him an hour before, dozing occasionally, as was his custom after dinner, and dreaming of his singing bird.