"We must save her!" cried Madge. "I once saw people work over an hour before there were signs of life."
"Oh, God bless your brave heart!" murmured the poor mother. "You won't leave my child—you won't let them give her up, will you?"
"No, Mrs. Wilder, not for one hour or two. I believe that your little girl will be saved."
"Have some brandy ready," said Dr. Sommers.
A flask was produced, and Graydon again knelt near, to have it in readiness, while the doctor kept up his monotonous effort, pressing the arms against the lungs, then lifting them above the head and back to the ground, with regular and mechanical iteration.
The child's eyelids began to tremble. "Ah!" exclaimed the doctor; a moment later there was a slight choking cough, and a glad cry went up from the throng.
"The brandy," said the doctor.
Madge now gave up the case to him and Graydon, and slipped down beside the mother, who was swaying from side to side. "Don't faint," she said; "your child will need you as soon as she is conscious."
"Oh, Heaven bless you! Heaven bless you!" cried the mother; "you have saved my only, my darling."
"Yes, madam, you are right. It's all plain sailing now," the doctor added.