CHAPTER XVIII
IN WHICH DAVID THRYNG AWAKES
Thryng lay in Hoke Belew's cabin,--not in the one great living-roomwhere were the fireplace and the large bed and the tiny cradle, but inthe smaller addition at the side, entered only from the porch whichextended along the front of both parts.
He still lay on the litter upon which he had been placed to carry himdown the mountain,--an improvised thing made by stretching quilts acrosstwo poles of slender green pines. The litter was placed on low trestlesto raise it from the floor, and close to the open door to give him air.David had not regained consciousness since his hurt, but lay like onedead, with closed eyes and blanched lips; yet they knew him to beliving.
Cassandra sat beside him alone. All night long she had been thereunsleeping, hollow-eyed, and worn with tearless grief. She had done allshe knew how to do. Before going for help she had removed his clothingand bound about his body strips torn from her dress to stop the bleedingof his shoulders where the silver bullet had torn across them. How theball had missed giving a mortal wound was like a miracle.
Hoke Belew had tried to arouse him, but had failed. At intervals, duringthe night, Cassandra had managed to drop a little whiskey between hislips with a spoon, and she had bathed him with the stimulant over heartand lungs, and chafed his hands, and had tried to warm his feet byrubbing them and wrapping them up between jugs of hot water. She hadbathed his bruised head and cut away the softly curling hair from thespot where his head had struck the rock. What more she could do she knewnot, and now she sat at his side still chafing his hands and waiting forHoke Belew's return.
Hoke had gone to the station to telegraph for Bishop Towers.Fortunately, as the hotel was so soon to be opened and the busy summerlife to begin, the operator was already there.
Azalea, in the great room, was preparing dinner, stopping now and thento touch her baby's cradle, or to stoop a moment over the treasuretherein. Aunt Sally sat in the doorway smoking her cob pipe and tellinggrewsome tales of how she had "seen people hurted that-a-way and nevahcome out en hit." Sally had ridden over to give help and sympathy, butCassandra had said she would watch alone. She had eaten nothing sincethe day before, only sipping the coffee Azalea had brought her.
It was one of those breathless hours before a rain when not a leafstirs; even the birds were silent. Cassandra tried once more to giveDavid a few drops of the whiskey, and this time it seemed as if heswallowed a little. She thought she saw his eyelids quiver, and herheart pounded suffocatingly in her breast. She dropped beside him on herknees and once again tried to give him the only stimulant they had. Thistime she was sure he took it, and, still kneeling there, she bowed herhead and pressed her lips upon the hand she had been chafing. Did itmove or not? She could not tell, and again she sat gazing in the still,white face. Oh, the suspense! Oh, the joy that was agony! If this weretruly the awakening and meant life! In her intensity of longing for somefurther signs she drew slowly nearer and nearer, until at last her lipstouched his. Then in shame she hid her face in the quilt at his sideand, weak with the exhaustion of her long anguish and fasting andwatching, she wept the first tears--tears of hope she was not strongenough to bear. As she thus knelt, weeping softly, his flutteringeyelids lifted and he saw her there, and felt the quivering hand beneathhis head.
Not understanding how or why this should be, he waited perfectly still,trying to gather his thoughts. A great peace was in his heart--a peaceand content so sweet he did not wish to move. Lingering beneath thiscontent, he held a dim memory of a great anger--a horror of anger, whenhe saw red, and hungered for blood. Vaguely it seemed to him now thatall was as he wished it to be with Cassandra near. He liked to feel herhand beneath his head and her other hand upon his own, and her heavybronze hair so close, and he closed his eyes once more to shut out allelse, for the room was strange to him--this raftered place allwhitewashed from ceiling to floor.
He had forgotten what had happened, but Cassandra was there, and he wascontent. Something had touched his lips and brought him back, he wassure of that, and his weakly beating heart stirred to more vigorousaction. He turned his head a little, a very little, toward her, and hisfingers closed about her hand to hold it there. She lifted her headthen, and they looked into each other's eyes, a long, deep look. Later,when Azalea entered, she found them both sleeping, Cassandra's handstill beneath his head, his face pressed to her soft hair and his freearm flung about her.
Azalea stole away and hurried with the news to old Sally, who also creptin and looked on them and stole away.
"Yas, she sure have saved his life," said Sally. "Heap o' times theynevah do come out en that thar kin' o' sleep. I done seed sech before."
"Ef he have come to hisself, you reckon I bettah wake 'em up and giveher a leetle hot milk? She hain't eat nothin' sence yestiday."
"Naw, leave 'em be. No body nevah hain't starved in his sleep yit, Ireckon."
"He hain't eat nothin', neithah. He sure have been bad hurted."
The two women sat in the large room and talked in low tones, while atintervals Azalea crept to the door and looked in on them.
At last the baby wailed out with lusty cry, which sounded through thestillness of the house and roused Cassandra, but as she lifted her head,David clung to her and drew her cheek to his lips.
"Are you hurt?" he murmured. In some strange way he had confusedmatters, and thought it was she who had been shot.
"It's not me that's hurt," she said tenderly.
Azalea hurried away and returned with the warm milk she had prepared forCassandra, who took it and held it to David's lips.
"Drink it, Doctah. She won't touch anything till you do."
Then he obeyed, slowly drinking it all, his eyes fixed on Cassandra'sas a child looks up to his mother. As she rose, he held her with hisfree hand.
"What is it? How long--" His voice sounded thin and weak. "Strange--Ican't lift this arm at all. Tell me--"
"Seems like I can't. When you are strong again, I will."
Feebly he tried to raise himself. "Don't, oh, don't, Doctah Thryng. Ifyou bleed again, you'll die," she wailed.
"Sit near me."
She drew a low chair and sat near him, as she had through the slow andanxious hours, and again he drowsed off, only to open his eyes from timeto time as if to assure himself that she was still there. Again Azaleabrought her milk and white beaten biscuit, hot and sweet, and Cassandraate. When David opened his eyes to look at her, she smiled on him, butwould not let him talk to her.
Nevertheless his mind was busy trying to understand why he was lyingthus, and dimly the events of the last few days came back to him,shadowy and confused. When he looked up and saw her smile, his heart wassatisfied, but when he closed his eyes again, a strange sense of tragedysettled down upon him, but what or why he knew not. Suddenly he calledto her as if from his sleep, "Have I killed some one?" and there washorror in his voice.
"No, no, Doctor Thryng. You been nigh about killed yourself. Oh, whydidn't I send for a doctor who could do you right! Bishop Towers won'tknow anything about this."
"What have you done?"
"I sent for Bishop Towers."
"Who did me up like this?"
She was silent and, rising quickly, stepped out on the porch, her cheeksflaming crimson. Yesterday in her terror and frenzy she could have doneanything; but now--with his eyes fixed on her face so intently--shecould not reply nor tell how, alone, she had stripped him to the waistand bound him about with the homespun cotton of her dress to stanch thebleeding before hurrying down the mountain for help.
Instinctively she had done the right thing and had done it well, butnow she could not talk about it. David tried to call after her, but shehad gone around into the next room and taken the baby from his cradle,where he was wailing his demands for attention. Azalea had gone out fora moment, and Aunt Sally "lowed the' wa'n't no use sp'ilin him by takin'him up every time he fretted fer hit. Hit would do him good to holleran' stretch." So she sat still and smoked.
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sp; Cassandra walked up and down the porch, comforted by the feeling of thechild in her arms. The small head bobbed this way and that until shepressed it against her cheek and held him close, and he graduallysettled down on her bosom, his face tucked softly in the curve of herneck, and slept. She heard David speaking her name and went to him, buthe only looked up at her and smiled.
"I'm sorry I left you alone," she said tenderly; "I'll call Aunt Sally."
"No--wait--I only want--to look at you."
She stood swaying her lithe body to rock the sleeping child. Davidthought he never had seen anything lovelier. How serious his woundswere, he did not know. But one thing he knew well, and to that onethought he clung. He wanted Cassandra where he could see her all thetime. He wished she would talk to him, and not let him loseconsciousness, relapsing into the horror of a strange dream thatcontinued to haunt him.
"Do you love that baby?" he asked, his voice faint and high.
"He's a right nice baby."
"I say--do you love him?"
"Why--I reckon I do. Don't try to move that way, Doctah. You may not bedone right, and you'll bleed again. Oh, we don't know--we are soignorant--Azalie and me--"
He smiled. "Nothing matters now," he said.
They heard voices, and she looked out from the doorway. "It's Hoke.They've sent old Doctor Bartlett. I'm so glad. Aunt Sally, I reckonthey'll need hot water. Get some ready, will you?"
"Cassandra, Cassandra!" called David, almost irritably.
She came back to him.
"Where are they?"
"Down the road a piece. I'm glad. You'll be done right now."
"Stoop to me." She obeyed, and the free arm caught and held her, then,as the voices drew near, released her with glowing eyes and burningcheeks.
She stepped out on the porch to meet them, half hiding her face behindthe babe in her arms, and old Dr. Bartlett, as he looked on her withless prejudiced and more experienced eyes, thought he too never had seenanything lovelier.
"He's awake," said Cassandra quietly to Hoke, and the two men went toDavid. She carried the child back and asked Aunt Sally to wait on them,while she sat down in a low splint rocker, clinging to the little oneand listening, with throbbing nerves, to the voices in the room beyond.
When Hoke came out to them a moment later, Azalea began eagerly toquestion him, but Cassandra was silent.
"Doctah says we bettah tote 'im ovah to his own place to-day. Aunt Sally'lows she can bide thar fer a while an' see him well again."
"You hain't goin' to 'low that, be ye, Hoke? Hit mount look like wewa'n't willin' fer him to bide 'long of us."
"Hit hain't what looks like, hit's what's best fer him," said Hoke,sagely. "Whatevah doctah says, we'll do." Then Hoke laughed quietly. "Hedone tol' Doctor Bartlett 'at he reckoned somebody mus' 'a' took him fersome sorter wild creetur an' shot him by mistake. I guess Frale's safeenough f'om him, if the fool boy only know'd hit."
"Frale, he's plumb crazy, the way he's b'en actin'," said Azalea.
"An' Bishop Towahs he telegrafted 'at he'd send this here doctah, an'he'd come up to-morrer with Miz Towahs to stop ovah with you, so Ireckon yer maw wants you down thar, Cass."
Cassandra rose quickly and placed the sleeping child gently in hiscradle box. "I'll go," she said. "There's no need for me here now.Hoke--you've been right good--" She stopped abruptly and turned to hiswife. "I must wear your dress off, Azalie, but I'll send it back by Hokeas soon as hit's been washed." She went out the door almost as if shewere eager to escape.
"Hain't ye goin' to wait fer yer horse?" said Hoke, laughing. "Set aminute till I fetch him."
"I clean forgot," she said, and when he had left, she turned to herfriend. "Azalie--don't say anything to Hoke about me--us. Did Aunt Sallysee? You know I didn't know myself until I woke and found myself there.I'd been trying to make him take a little whiskey--and--I must have goneasleep like I was--and he woke up and must 'a' felt like he had to kisssomebody--he was that glad to be alive."
"Nevah you fret, child." Azalea smiled a quiet smile. "I'm not one totalk; anyway, I reckon Doctah Thryng's about right. He sure have beengood to me."
The widow sat on her little stoop, waiting and watching, as her daughterrode to the door and wearily alighted.
"Cassandry Merlin! For the Lord's sake! What-all is up now? Hoyle--whereis that boy?--Hoyle, come here an' take the horse fer sister. Be ye mostdade, honey? I reckon ye be. Ye look like hit."
Cassandra kissed her mother and passed on into the house. "I couldn'tsend you word last night; anyway, I reckoned you'd rest better if youdidn't know, for we-all thought Doctor Thryng was sure killed. Did Hoketell you this morning?"
"I 'lowed you was stoppin' with Azalie--'at baby was sick orsomethin'--when Hoyle went up to the cabin an' said doctah wa'n't there.Frale sure have done for hisself. I reckon you are cl'ar shet o' himnow, an' I'm glad ye be, since he done took to the idee o' marryin' withyou. What-all have he done the doctah this-a-way fer? The' wa'n'tnothin' 'twixt him an' doctah. Pore fool boy he! I'll be glad fer yuersake, Cass, if he'll quit these here mountains."
"Oh, mother, mother! Don't talk about me, don't think of me! Thedoctor's nigh about killed--let alone the sin Frale has on him now."Wearied beyond further endurance, she flung herself on her bed and brokeinto uncontrollable sobbing, while Hoyle stood in the middle of the roomand gazed with wide-eyed wonder.
"Be the doctah dade, maw?" he asked, in an awed whisper.
"No, child, no. You fetch a leetle light ud an' chips, an' we'll makeher some coffee. Sister's that tired, pore child! Have ye been up allnight, Cass?"
She nodded her head and still sobbed on.
"He's gettin' on all right now, be he?"
Again she nodded, but did not take her hands from her face.
"Then you'd ought to be glad. Hit ain't like Frale had of killed him.Farwell, he had many a time sech as that with one an' another, an' henevah come to no harm f'om hit. I reckon Frale'll be safe. Be ye cryin'fer him, Cass? Pore child! I nevah did think you keered fer Fralethat-a-way."
Then Cassandra burst forth with impetuous fire. "Oh, mother, mother!Never say that name to me again. Mother, I saw them! I saw themfighting--and all the time the doctor was bleeding--bleeding and dying,where Frale had shot him. I don't know how long they'd been fighting,but I came there and I saw them. I saw him slip and how Frale crushedhim down--down--and his head struck the rock. I saw--and I almost cursedFrale. I hope I didn't--oh, I hope not! But mother, mother! Don't ask meanything more now. Oh, I want to cry! I want to cry and never stop."
While she lay thus weeping, the soft rain that had been threatening allday began pattering down, blessed and soothing, the rain to the earthand the tears to the girl.
In spite of the rain, Thryng was carried home that afternoon accordingto the physician's orders, and placed in his cabin with Aunt Sally tostand guard over him and provide for his wants. A bed was improvised forher on the floor of the cabin, while David lay in his own bed in hiscanvas room, bandaged about both body and head, and withal moderatelycomfortable, sufficiently himself to realize what had occurred, andoverjoyed because of the reward his wounds had brought him.
Doctor Bartlett came down to the Fall Place and was given the bed in theloom shed as David had been, and had the pleasure of again seeingCassandra, who, her tears dried, and her manner composed, looked afterhis needs as if no storms had ever shaken her soul.