I shook her gently and she moaned.

I spoke again and again, but she did not answer, nor try to rise.

The rain was pouring down upon us and I knew she must not lie there.

So once more, just as I had done in the dingy, but now under quite different circumstances and with entirely different feelings, I stooped and lifted her in my arms.
My years of outdoor life in Denboro had had one good effect at least; they had made me strong.

I carried her with little effort to the bridge.
And there I stopped.