He came down and searched for him, _mem-sahib_; but he was gone.

The snows are melting, and the water runs swift and deep." "Ah!" It was a gasp rather than an exclamation.

Stella was blindly tottering against the tent-rope, clutching vaguely for support.
The great Sikh caught her ere she fell, his own distress subdued in a flash before the urgency of her need.

"Lean on me, _mem-sahib!_" he said, deference and devotion mingling in his voice.
She accepted his help instinctively, scarcely knowing what she did, and very gently, with a woman's tenderness, he led her back into the tent.
"My _mem-sahib_ must rest," he said.

"And I will find a woman to serve her." She opened her eyes with a dizzy sense of wonder.