“No matter, sir, we’ll sell the sheep, if need be. Aye, dearie,” he added gently, “we’ll take the chance.”
“There’s no time to spare, then,” said the doctor looking at his watch.
“Aye,” replied Samuel, “we’ll be ready.”
“Then be sharp about it,” said the doctor, alert for the one chance of life.
“Aye, sir”; and Samuel went into the room where Barbara lay.
He looked down upon her lying in bed; he could see that her strength was slipping, slipping away. He dropped on his knees beside her. He patted her hand, he smoothed her forehead.
“Mother!” he called.
Her eyes smiled confidingly, reassuringly up at him.
“Och, mother, I never thought of this!”
There came a feeble answering pat from her hand.