And fast as age and infirmities would permit, she scrambled up the narrow stairs that led to the loft and quickly drew the blankets and mattress from David’s bed and rolled them down to the room below.
Then she followed them in their descent, and straightened the mattress on the floor, and laid the blankets over it.
“Now lift her up, and lay her here, David, and then leave the room. I must take off her wet clothes, wind her in a warm blanket, and roll her. That I must do without your help,” said the dame, with a calm authority that would have compelled obedience from any one.
But the young man indeed was so stupefied and distracted by anguish and despair, that he was more than willing to be led or driven.
Moaning and groaning in bitterest woe, he lifted the lifeless form and laid it on its right side on the blanket over the mattress on the floor, and then went up stairs and threw himself down near the landing to pray with all his soul for her revival, and to listen with all his senses for any murmur of her returning life that might reach him there.
Meanwhile the dame rolled the drowned girl over on her face, with her wrist bent under her forehead to raise it, and then leaving her so for a moment, went and hung a large blanket over several chairs before the fire. Then she removed the wet raiment from the victim, and laid down the hot blanket, and rolled her over and wrapped her in it, and rolled and rubbed until some good results began to appear, and her own strength to wane.
Then she called to the anxious watcher above:
“Come down, David, and help me now. There is hope, my lad. There is hope!”
“Oh, thank the Lord! Thank the Lord! From this time forth I will live to the Lord!” exclaimed the young man in an earnest outburst of gratitude, too deep for gladness, as he hurried down the stairs.
“Ah! my boy, I said there was hope, not certainty,” sighed the dame.