When Bee left Adele and went into the cabin of old Rachel she seemed calm and collected. In reality she was very much frightened. Fearful of what she might see involuntarily she closed her eyes as she shut the door behind her, and stood so for a few moments. Presently overcoming her dread she opened them and glanced around.
The room was in semi-darkness, its one window being closed tightly. The atmosphere was hot and stifling, and permeated by a peculiar sickening odor. With an exclamation she threw wide the door to admit the air and sunshine. On the bed in one corner of the room lay the form of a woman, and it took all the courage she possessed for the girl to go to her. It was old Rachel, but her features were so swollen and disfigured by the disease as to be almost unrecognizable. She seemed in a sort of stupor for she lay nearly motionless.
A shudder of loathing shook Bee from head to foot, and she was seized by a strong desire to run away. Obeying the impulse she reached the door, but her flight was arrested by a moan from the negress, and an almost incoherent muttering of, "Water! Water!"
"She is thirsty," whispered Bee, pausing on the threshold. "I wonder where Tillie is!"
For, strange to say, there was no one in the cabin but old Rachel.
"I must get the water myself," said Bee aloud. "It's a shame to leave that poor old woman alone!"
She ran to the well and drew a bucketful of clear cold water, which she carried to the cabin. Filling a cup she approached the bed upon which Rachel lay. Then she stopped.
"I can't do it," she cried. "I can't touch her."
Again the moan came from the poor parched lips: "Water! Water!"