“Oh,” she moaned, “this terrible suspense! Frank, my darling, you must not stay here. Have you been with me all the time I have been asleep?”
“Yes, mother, all. You asked for me.”
“Yes, my darling, in my selfishness; but you ought to go and get the latest tidings. Frank, it is your duty to be there when your father reaches this weary city. He ought not to be looking in vain for one of those he loves. You must go at once. Do you hear me? It is your duty.”
“The doctor said it was my duty to watch by you,” said Frank, with his heart beating fast, as he wondered whether Captain Murray had gone.
“With me? Oh, what am I, if your being where he could see you, if only for a moment, would give him comfort in his sore distress!”
“I was going, mother,” whispered the boy excitedly. “Captain Murray was going to let me be with him, and he as an officer would have been able to take me right up to the escort.”
“Then why are you here? Oh, go—go at once!”
“I was to stay with you, mother, so that you might see me when you awoke,” he said huskily, the intense longing to go struggling with the desire to stay.
“Yes, yes, and I have seen you; but I am nothing if we can contrive to give him rest. Go, then, at once.”
“But you are not fit to be left.”