Page:Frank Packard - The Miracle Man.djvu/228

 Helena seated herself, and held her skirt to the fire.

"Gone!" she said, a little dully. "Where are you going?"

"Why, to get help of course," he told her.

"Help!"—she shook her head. "You don't know where to find any—you only know for a certainty that there isn't any within miles."

"I know there's a house back on the main road," he said. "I noticed it as we came along."

"That's seven or eight miles from here," she returned. "And it's raining harder than ever—mud up to your ankles—it would take you hours to reach it."

"Possibly two, or two and a half," he said lightly.

"Yes; and another two at least to get back. I won't hear of you doing any such thing—you are wet through now. It's far better to wait for daylight and then probably the storm will be over."

"But don't you see, Miss Vail"—his voice was suddenly grave, masterful—"don't you see that there is no other thing to do?"

"No," said Helena. "I don't see anything of the kind. I won't have you do anything like that for me—it's not to be thought of."

Thornton stooped, placed a knot upon the fire, straightened up—and faced her.

"It's awfully good of you to think of me," he said in a low tone; "but, really, it won't be half as bad as you are picturing it in your mind. And really"—he hesitated, fumbling for his