“You’d a’most fancy he was alive still,” said one of the men. “See that touch of pink?” He touched the cheek reverently. Nurse Ives went up and stood at the head of the bed. She gave the man an angry glance and he apologized for what he had done.
“We will come in if you like later on to screw down the lid,” he said.
“The lid had better be screwed on now,” said the nurse. “There are signs of mortification already setting in, and it would be unwise to leave the coffin uncovered any longer. Miss Evershed or Mrs. Pelham might come up to see the corpse; it would not be safe, and I wish to have the lid screwed on at once.”
“All right, Miss, we’ll soon put things straight.”
The men put on the lid and screwed it down, and then they went away. The moment they did so a queer look came over Nurse Ives’s impassive face. She went quickly to the door of the room and locked it. Then, taking a turnscrew, she hastily unfastened the screws and removed the lid from the top of the coffin. Having done this, she lifted the body out.
Once again she laid it on the bed, and now she piled warm blankets over the little body, and put a hot bottle, which she had previously got ready, to the feet. Then, going to the dressing-room, she brought away a small box which contained capsules of amyl nitrite. She broke one of the capsules in a handkerchief, and, holding it close to the nostrils of the child, a strong and pungent odor filled the room. The face of the dead underwent no perceptible change at first, but then the faint color in the cheeks increased. A look of triumph filled the nurse’s eyes.
“Good!” she cried. “It is all right. I thought I could do it, and I have. Dr. Tarbot imagined he would be even with me. He is not; I am his master. What is about to happen to-night will come upon him as a blow when he least expects it. Yes, all is well; I feather my own nest; I receive that reward for which I have lost my soul. I prepare for the evil day. I know what I am about.”
As these thoughts flew through the woman’s mind she went over to the wicker trunk at the other end of the room and opened it. The trunk was of a peculiar shape—much longer than is ordinarily made. From this receptacle she took out bales of cotton wool and several iron weights. She wrapped the wool round the weights and filled the coffin with them.
When she had put in enough wool and iron to make up the probable weight of the child, she screwed on the lid again, and having done so, bent over the little body. The color was still in the cheeks, although the cheeks were cold, and the eyes remained firmly shut. Not a breath passed the lips, not a movement was apparent; still, the woman felt quite satisfied. She gave a further sigh of intense relief, and throwing an eider-down quilt over the blankets, left the room, taking good care to lock the door of the chamber of death after her. She went the entire length of a long corridor and paused outside Mrs. Pelham’s room. The other nurse had arrived and was already in charge. Barbara Evershed was standing near the door. Barbara had seen the undertaker’s men bringing up the little coffin, and her eyes were red from a fresh burst of tears.
“I shall leave to-night,” said Nurse Ives, pausing and looking full into the girl’s face.