In her ears burst a thundering report.

The court floated in darkening circles around her, and she fell into utter blackness.
The darkness lightened, turned to slow-drifting haze, and lifted.
Through a thin film of blue smoke she saw the rough-hewn timbers of the court roof.

A cool, damp touch moved across her brow.

She smelled powder, and it was that which galvanized her suspended thought.

She moved, to see that she lay prone upon the stone flags with her head on Lassiter's knee, and he was bathing her brow with water from the stream.
The same swift glance, shifting low, brought into range of her sight a smoking gun and splashes of blood.
"Ah-h!" she moaned, and was drifting, sinking again into darkness, when Lassiter's voice arrested her.
"It's all right, Jane.