At the commencement of their friendship she had been painfully aware of what she considered his shortcomings, but these had gradually become less evident, and something in the man's forceful personality had carried her away.

Possibly, though she may not have realized it, his splendid animal vigour had its part in this--and now dismay and a great pity struggled within her.

It was especially unfortunate that when Alton looked up the consternation had risen uppermost, for the man's perceptions were not of the clearest then, and he saw nothing of the compassion, but only the shrinking in her eyes.
His face grew a trifle grey as he straightened himself with a visible effort and limped forward, for he was one who could make a quick decision, while to complete his bitterness Thorne came up behind him and slipped an arm beneath his shoulder.
"You seem a little shaky, I'll help you up," he said.

"An axe-cut?
The effect will probably soon wear off." Alton understood that Thorne was talking to cover any embarrassment he may have felt, but was not especially grateful just then.

"No," he said; "a rifle-shot." He fancied that Thorne was a trifle astonished, and remembered Seaforth's story, but they had gained the head of the stairway now, and he looked at Alice Deringham as he added, "And the effect will not wear off." Thorne passed through with the others into the lighted room, and Alton stood silent before the girl.