Send round, Marie," he went on, speaking to his wife, "and find out any one in Engelberg who knows English.

See! The poor fellow is trying to say something now." "I can speak English," said Roland, pushing his way in amid the crowd and kneeling down beside the litter, on which a rough bed of fir pine-branches had been made.

The unknown face beneath his eyes was drawn with pain, and the gaze that met his was one of earnest entreaty.
"I am dying," he murmured; "don't let them torture me.

Only let me be laid on a bed to die in peace." "I will take care of you," said Roland in his pleasant and soothing voice, speaking as tenderly as if he had been saying "God bless you!" to Felix in his little cot; "trust yourself to me.

They shall do for you only what I think best." The stranger closed his eyes with an expression of relief, and Roland, taking up one corner of the litter, helped to carry it gently into the nearest bedroom.