“An English doctor!  Oh!” cried John, “there’s some good in that.  Some one must take a note down to him at once.”

But after some guttural conversation of which he understood only a word or two, Mr. Graham said—-

“They declare it is of no use.  The carriage was ordered at nine.  It is past seven now.”

“But it need not take two hours to go that distance downhill, the lazy blackguards!” exclaimed John.

“In the present state of the path, they say that it will,” said Mr. Graham.  “In fact, I suspect a little unwillingness to deprive their countrymen of the job.”

“I’ll go,” said John, “then there will be no loss of time about writing.  You’ll look after Armine, sir, and tell my aunt.”

“Certainly, my boy; but you’ll find it a stiffish pull.”

“I came in second for the mile race last summer at Eton,” said Johnny.  “I’m not in training now; but if a will can do it—-”

“I believe you are right.  If you don’t catch him, we shall hardly have lost time, for they say we must wait an hour or two for the Gemmi road to get clear of snow.  Stay; don’t go without eating.  You won’t keep it up on an empty stomach.  Remember the proverb.”

Prayer had been with him all night, and he listened to the remonstrance as to provender enough to devour a bit of bread, put another into his pocket, and swallow a long draught of new milk.  Mr. Graham further insisted on his taking a lad to show him the right path through the fir woods; and though Johnny looked more formed for strength than speed, and was pale-cheeked and purple-eyed with broken rest, the manner in which he set forth had a purpose-like air that was satisfactory-—not over swift at the outset over the difficult ground, but with a steadfast resolution, and with a balance and knowledge of the management of his limbs due to Eton athletics.

Mr. Graham went up to encourage Mrs. Brownlow.  She clasped her hands together with joy and gratitude.

“That dear, dear boy,” she said, “I shall owe him everything.”

Jock had wakened rational, though only to be conscious of severe suffering.  He would hardly believe that Armine was really alive till Mr. Graham actually carried in the boy, and let them hold each other’s hands for a moment before placing Armine on the other bed.

Indeed it seemed that this might be the poor boys’ last meeting.  Armine could only look at his brother, since the least attempt to speak increased the agonised struggle for breath, which, doctor or no doctor, gave Mr. Graham small expectation that he could survive another of these cold mountain nights.

Their mother was so far relieved to have them together that it was easier to attend to them; and Armine’s patient eyes certainly acted as a gentle restraint upon Jock’s moans, lamentations, and requisitions for her services.  It was one of those times that she only passed through by her faculty of attending only to present needs, and the physical strength and activity that seemed inexhaustible as long as she had anything to do, and which alone alleviated the despair within her heart.