The poor father sank beside her body with an inarticulate groan as though some one had crushed his head with an axe. He seemed dazed for a moment, and looking around he shouted hoarsely, “The doctor boys! The doctor quick! For God’s sake, quick! She’s not dead yet—we may save her—help—help!” he sank again to the ground limp and faint from pain and was soon insensible.
Gaston gathered the child tenderly in his arms and carried her to the house. The men hastily made a stretcher and carried Tom behind him.
CHAPTER V—A THOUSAND-LEGGED BEAST
WHILE Gaston and the men were carrying Flora and Tom to the house, another searching party was formed. There were no women and children among them, only grim-visaged silent men, and a pair of little mild-eyed sharp-nosed blood-hounds. All the morning men were coming in from the country and joining this silent army of searchers.
Doctor Graham came, looked long and gravely at Flora and turned a sad face toward Tom.
The ole soldier grasped his arm before he spoke. “‘Now, doctor wait—don’t say a word yet. I don’t want to know the truth, if it’s the worst. Don’t kill me in a minute. Let me live as long as there’s breath in her body—after that! well, that’s the end—there’s nothin’ after that!”
The doctor started to speak.
“Wait,” pleaded Tom, “let me tell you something. I’ve been praying all night. I’ve seen God face to face. She can’t die. He told me so—”