“All but me!” those self-same dreaded, almost forgotten words once more. So that miserable work of yesterday had brought them to life, and killed everything else at the same time! The doctor stepped out of sight, and for one instant Creepy did not know where he was. Only at the window, having a sharp tussle with yesterday’s battle again; but the next moment he was at Creepy’s side once more, looking just as before, and holding Nellie Halliday’s flowers before his eyes.
“See here, little man, the world is beautiful after all, is it not?”
“All but me,” and the great eyes looked wearily at the doctor.
It took all the self-command the doctor could muster at that moment to place the vase quietly on the table again, and take Creepy’s pulse in his fingers without letting him suspect how hotly his own were flying.
“What is it?” he asked as gently as if there were neither battles nor enemies to be thought of, as Creepy closed his eyes and turned wearily on his pillow.
“Only the pain.”
“The old pain?”
Creepy nodded, and the doctor laid down his hand and stepped quietly out of sight again, for that was the very story he had dreaded to hear. There it was, raging and burning up and down the twisted spine, the same trouble as of old, and threatening not only to undo all the winter’s work, but to make mischief ten times greater than had ever been there before.
“Hoot!” muttered Joan from the half-open door where she had been watching the whole scene, “and fever too, plain eneugh, and as dree a pain i’ the head, I warrant, as in the puir back itsel’, wi’ sic great cords o’ blue veins swellin’ above the bairn’s brow. Not a word wad the doctor hearken when I told him a cripple like itsel’ wad be wantin’ a nurse ane day; but now the day has come, the nurse shall be Joan and nane beside;” and stalking noiselessly to the head of the bed she took her stand.
Aleck came the next day and the next; there was only the same story to be told.