—“She is conscious, and the crisis is past. It’s been a terrible struggle, and if she hadn’t had her youth and a devil of a strong constitution, I should have lost this game.”
Trafford held out his hand; it trembled like a leaf; he tried to force a smile.
“I won’t try to thank you, doctor,” he said.
“That’s all right,” said the doctor. “Besides, we aren’t out of the wood yet. She’s fearfully weak, and there might be trouble still.”
“May I see her?” asked Trafford in a low voice.
“No,” said the doctor, bluntly. “You certainly may not; that would about finish it. I came out to tell you so, and to advise you to go away for a night. Take a ride, and try to get rid of that scared face of yours. You still look too much like a ghost to present yourself at a sick-bed. Why not go down to the camp and see the boys? You might go to the Eldorado and get a drink or two; in fact, I should advise you to get several drinks and make a night of it; you’ll be all the better for it. Your mind’s been dwelling on one thing; you’ve been harping on one string too long. Go down and have a spree, join in a fight, if you like; anyway, get rid of that undertaker expression; a black eye would be better than that.”
Trafford smiled.
“I will go down to the camp,” he said, almost humbly.
He followed the doctor to the door of the hut and stood and listened in the hope that he might hear the beloved voice, but all was still, and he went back and mounted his horse and rode toward Three Star. The relief from the terrible suspense made him feel almost light-headed, and he rode along in a kind of dream, looking about him as if earth and sky were something new to him. Every now and then he breathed her name. As he approached the camp, he saw Varley just preparing to mount his horse; he was going to ride to the hut. At sight of Trafford, he stopped and stood, with one arm resting on the saddle, awaiting him. Trafford rode up, dismounted, and raised his hat; Varley raised his, his dark eyes fixed sternly on Trafford’s face.
“I have brought good news,” said Trafford. “The crisis is past; she is better.”