CHAPTER XXI
FROM THE DEAD
“MY lady, I cannot stay, but I must be the one to bring the news. He is living after all.”
Bride had risen from her knees at the sound of hurrying steps along the corridor, and now stood face to face with the faithful old nurse, who with the doctor had been fighting the two hours’ battle, in the teeth of almost hopeless despair, over the rigid and motionless form of Eustace Marchmont, and now she stood white and panting before her young mistress, but with tears of gladness standing in her eyes.
Bride raised her face for a moment, her eyes alight with the intensity of her thanksgiving. The dawn was just stealing in through the uncurtained window. She looked for a moment at the crimson blush in the east, and then suddenly bent her head and kissed the faithful woman beside her.
“Thank God!” she said very softly; “and thank you, dear nurse, for I know how you have been toiling for him—and for me.”
“Oh, my Ladybird, it would have broken my heart if he had slipped away out of life just when—but there, there! I mustn’t stop to talk. And we mustn’t build too much on keeping him here. He’s been a terrible time in the water, and been fearfully dashed about. He’ll have a fight to pull through; but then he’s young and strong, and he’ll have the best sort of hope to help him. There, deary, there, there! I can’t linger longer. There’s a deal to be done, and the doctor has to go when he can spare a moment to look to that other poor fellow. I don’t know which is the worst of the two, but they are both of them alive at least.”
“Saul too? Ah! I am glad!” cried Bride; and then the nurse hurried away, and she sat down after the long strain of those strange hours, and tried to collect her scattered thoughts.