Helen remembered now how her sister had put her hands over her eyes and screamed. Afterwards she had not thought of Henriette, only of him. It had been too horrible for Henriette to bear. Henriette loved him and he loved her, and her eyes to Helen's revealed her suffering in the past two hours. Now she had come back as one in a dream, afraid to ask how he was.
"Yes, he will live, Henriette—oh, how awful it has been for you! His body is as good as ever. He will live and make the fight. He has promised—such a hard fight!"
"Then he had wished to die? He was going to, you mean, and—and——" Henriette wrenched out the words.
"Yes, and the doctor says that he would have died. It is all a matter of will-power. But we told him that he would get his sight and hearing back and except for some little scars will be the same as before."
"Will he?"
"He must! We must not allow him or ourselves to think anything else. Just must—must!"
"Yes!" Henriette breathed faintly.
"Will you go in and see him?"
"I——" Henriette hesitated. "No, not to-night!" she concluded.
The two sisters walked along the path in silence, which was a gripping silence for both. When they came to the parting of the ways to their quarters, Helen took Henriette's hand in hers.