Then exhaustion and vigil overcame her, for she had watched for many nights; and thinking that she waked, she slept.
When she came to herself it was broad, bright day. Her hand had a strange feeling; when she tried, she could not move it, for he held it fast. There were people in the room,—her father, her mother, Captain Hap. She stirred a little, leaning towards her husband’s pillow.
“Dear, are you better this morning?”
But some one came up, and gently laid a hand upon her eyes.
XXX.
Job Slip went down to the water, and it was dark. He walked apart, and took himself into that solitary place on the wharves which he remembered, where he had knelt in the rain, one night, and said, “God,” for Mr. Bayard.
A mackerel keg was there—the same one, perhaps; he overturned it, and sat down, and tried to understand. Job had not been able to understand since Mr. Bayard was hurt.
Thought came to him slowly, and with pain like that caused by the return of congested blood to its channels.