It was heroic treatment and Dorothy screamed; then promptly fainted away. When she came to herself she was dripping with water from the brook, with which Jim had drenched her--not knowing what better to do; and from a sudden downpour of rain which came almost unhindered through the branches overhead.
"Pshaw! I'd oughter 'a' took to the road. I hadn't no business to try this way, though 'tis nigher!"
That was the first thing Dorothy realized; the next that her foot was aching horribly, but not in that sickening way it had before; and lastly that, as the only means of keeping it dry, Jim had thrust their loaf back into the bundle and was sitting upon that! A lightning flash revealed this to her, but did not prepare her for her companion's next words:
"Never! Never! I'd rather die right here in the woods!" cried Dorothy, aghast. "Dead or alive that man shall never get me in his power again. But I'm not afraid. God is good to orphan children--He will take care of me--He will, He will!"
In some way she managed to get upon her knees and the next flash of lightning showed her thus, with her face uplifted and her hands clasped, while an agony of supplication was in her wide brown eyes.
Religion was an unknown thing to poor Jim Barlow, whose simple integrity was of nature, not culture. His Sundays had been merely days on which to toil a little harder against the morrow's market, nor had he ever been inside a church. But something in the sight of this child kneeling there in the night and the storm touched an unknown chord of his soul, and before he knew it he was kneeling beside her. Not to pray, as she did, but to hold her firmly, to comfort her by his human touch for this fresh terror he did not understand.
After a moment she turned and sat down again and said just as firmly as before, but quite calmly now:
"If you want to go back you may. I shall not. God will take care of me, even if you leave me all alone. I've asked Him."
"Leave you alone? I hadn't thunk of it. What you mean?"
"_Pshaw!_" It was several seconds before honest Jim could say anything more, but those five letters held a world of meaning. Finally, he was able to add to them and to help her seat herself again on the ground, and he is scarcely to be blamed if he did this with some force. From his point of view Dorothy was stupid. She should have known that he never gave up doing that to which he had set his hand. He had promised to get her back to Baltimore, some way, and he would keep his promise. With another, rather milder "Pshaw!" he explained: