Burke kept her in the room while he bathed the injury. He was very gentle, and Sylvia was soon conscious of relief. When at length he applied a pad soaked in ointment and proceeded to bandage with a dexterity that left nothing to be desired, she told him with a smile that he was as good as a professional.
"One has to learn a little of this sort of thing," he said. "How does it feel now?"
"Much better," she answered. "I shall have forgotten all about it by to-morrow."
"No, you won't," said Burke. "You will rest it for three days at least. You don't want to get water on the joint."
"Three days!" she echoed in dismay, "I can't—possibly—lie up here."
He raised his eyes from his bandaging for a moment, and a curious thrill went through her; it was as if his look pierced her. "The impossible often happens here," he said briefly.
She expressed a sharp tremor that caught her unawares. "What does that mean?" she asked, striving to speak lightly.
He replied with his eyes lowered again to his task. "It means among other things that you can't get back to Ritzen until the floods go down. Ritter Spruit is a foaming torrent by this time."
"Good heavens!" she exclaimed. "But isn't there—isn't there a bridge anywhere?"
"Forty miles away," said Burke Ranger laconically.