The Birmingham age-herald., 1923-04-22

GeH upward uftl they reached place where the sandstone cliff overhung so much OH the north side of the bay as to make a penthouse, screened from both wind and rain.
 A flicker across the rolling water pene- trated to the gloom of his temporary refuge, and showed him her waxen face and closed eyes. With the sight there leapt into him the remembrance that if she still lived he had to save her, come what might.
 Dizzily, he went down upon his knees, stopped over her, laid his ear over the place where her heart should beat. Be could hear nothing.
 Signing heavily he proceeded to raise her up tounching her tenderly like fruit he feared to bruse. He threw her weight forward, over his arm, to get rid of water she might have swallowed.
 She was terribly cold. He had no brandy nothing.
 He himself was hot all over, tingling with the stupendous exertion of his late swim He laid her carefully down upon the sand and began to make the necessary movements for inducing artificial respiration. The mere fact of having to do the same thing re- PSdlNoiJ hNpt SoAbS. iiS raised her arms and let them fall, expanded and contracted the lungs.
 Time went by. He did not know how much At last he bent over her again; and this time he heard her heart-heard and felt it beat.
 There stole over him wave of pure joy which not even the cruel circumstances could conquer.
 ''She is alive" he thought, and instinc- lively drew her up against his own warm body as though to shield her from the cold and wet.
 Meanwhile, he must keep her warm
 With care he pressed and wrung the water from her still partially looped hair and from her draperies. He propped his back against the sandstone cliff and clasped her close.
 q must keep the life in you,' he whis- pered to ears that could not hear. "I shall be all right in a minute or two-and then I'll carry you up the cliff
 And then in moment, before he had time to consider the enormity of his behavior, his exhaustion asserted itself invncibly. He had reached the limit of human effort and consciousness slipped from him entirely in dependent of his will.
 When Stepan Woronz came to himself with start daylight had fully broken. With an indescribable sensation of un- reality he gazed about him at the low gray sky and dirty, heaving lake; thence to the head which lay in the crook of his arm.
 He was stiff and sore, every limb ached and his brain still swan, so that at first he could not be sure that what he saw was actual fact. He lifted his head and drew in great gulps of the air of the summer morning; and his grip of his own senses grew more steady he realized that he and the princess were both warm.
 Hours, he knew, must have elapsed since he lost consciousness. He was flooded with shame. Yet he felt that, if he could but keep from the lady the knowledge of her present position his collapse was possibly the best thing that could have chanced
 Earnestly perusing the face which lay hepless under his gaze, he saw that her breath came evenly and that her condition was no longer that of unconsciousness, but of natural sleep.
 Her right ear was clotted with blood, which had oozed from a wound upon the cheek-bone, below the temple. That side of her face was much discolored; but she did not seem to be in pain. Her expression was quite peaceful.
 Impressed with the necessity of changing their attitude before she awoke, he set about moving with the greatest caution, and succeeded in laying her down upon the sand, which he heaped together beneath her head
 The motion, however, or perhaps the cool air blowing upon her, awoke her almost in