[Illustration: Father Orin and Toby.]
"Steady, Toby. That's right, old man," said the priest, now and then.
The doctor kept a close, anxious watch over the child in Father Orin's
arms, and frequently glanced down at the two little faces lying in the
hollow of his own arms. Any one of the three,--or all of them--might
cease to breathe at any moment. It seemed to both the anxious men that
they were a long time in going to the Sisters' house, although the
distance was but a few miles. When the log refuge first came in sight
through the trees, they breathed a deep sigh of relief in the same
breath. The Sisters, who had been warned, saw them coming, and ran to
meet them, and took the babies from their arms. When the little ones had
been borne in the house and put to bed, the doctor sat down beside them
to see what more might be done. But the priest, without rest or delay,
set out on another errand of mercy. Toby, needing no word or hint, at
once quickened his pace, knowing full well the difference between this
business and that which was just finished, so far as they were
responsible.
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