“We shall do very well,” agreed Sophy, who still looked white and scared. “I called you because I thought I ought to do it for the sake of Pam; but if you don’t think there is any truth in what he is saying, of course it is of no use taking any notice of it.”
“I did not say there was no truth in it. I said it could not be regarded as evidence,” corrected her father. “What we have to do is to nurse the boy back to health and strength, and when he is better see if he will tell us what he knows, if he really knows anything, that is. But there must be no mention of this in any conscious spells that he may have. Now I must be going; I have to go over to Hunt’s Crossing, and I want to get home before dark if I can. By the way, do you know how the boy got his hurt?”
“Jack says the water began to come into the house where Reggie lives. He was trying to save the furniture when some up-stream wreckage crashed into the side of the house, and the crazy old place collapsed; the boy escaped by a miracle, and managed to scramble on to the table, which was upside down. He was carried past Mrs. Buckle’s in that fashion, but they were all so busy there, trying to barricade the house to keep the water out, that they did not see him until it was too late. Jack started in pursuit, and it was lucky for me that he did, for I was in difficulties when he reached our frontage on the creek. I am not much good where water is concerned. I can’t swim, and I have the most fearful terror of water, too.” Pam shivered as she spoke, and the whole grim struggle seemed to come back upon her; again she was fighting to keep on her feet in the swirling brown current, while she strove to tow the table and the boy to the bank.
The Doctor nodded in complete understanding, then said in his most business-like manner:
“Suppose you go straight to bed now, and lie there until dawn; then you can get up and relieve Sophy. The evening chores bothering you, are they?” he laughed, as Pam began on a spirited objection to being sent to bed like a naughty child in broad daylight. “Jack can manage them, he is a downright capable chap; but I don’t want you for a patient to-morrow, so you must do as you are told.”
It was of no use to protest. Pam felt so bad that she was very thankful to be spared anything further in the way of exertion. She was so tired, too, that she went fast asleep directly her head touched the pillow, and she knew nothing more until the first grey glimmer of dawn began to steal over the tops of the forest trees. She sprang up then, intent on relieving Sophy. Hastily dressing, she stole downstairs, walked softly across the best sitting-room, and gently pushed open the door of the bedroom, which stood ajar.
Sophy was fast asleep, her head resting on the side of the bed. Reggie was asleep too, and he looked such a small boy, his face so pinched and white and pathetic, that Pam could have wept in sheer pity as she looked at him. She withdrew as softly as she had entered, and, going out to the kitchen, set to work to rouse the fire in the stove, and to make coffee. She would not disturb Sophy yet; better to sleep in an uncomfortable position than not to sleep at all.
Breakfast was ready, a very early breakfast, and the big kitchen was full of the odours of coffee, fried bacon, and toast, when Pam went across to the bedroom carrying a cup of milk for the invalid and some toast. Sophy woke then, cramped, stiff, and miserable, and was ordered out to the kitchen to have her breakfast, while Pam stayed to look after the patient, who was also awake. The old dog had entered the room behind her, and stood wagging a friendly tail by way of welcome to the boy on the bed. The animal was used to fresh faces now, and being of a friendly disposition was ready to welcome everyone that came.
“Better, are you?” asked Pam briskly. She put the milk down by the side of the bed, and then stood looking at the boy with kindly pity in her eyes. He was so small and thin that it was to the last degree pathetic to think of him staying alone, and striving to make a living for himself since Mose had deserted him.
“I suppose so; only, things seem queer,” he answered, with an uneasy look round as if he were in search of something.