Betty saw that he expected her husband would die before his return, but she did not flinch.
“I will do anything in the world so long as there’s a chance of saving him!” she cried. “Run, Mr. Stubbs, run! Make haste—oh, do make haste!”
Stubbs drew his arm from beneath the wounded man’s shoulder, and hastened away without another word. Betty went to her linen-drawer, and found an old sheet, which she tied round Jim’s body to staunch the bleeding; he seemed to have received the charge chiefly in his right side. He opened his eyes and smiled at her faintly, and then she dropped on her knees beside him.
“Jim,” she whispered, “you never went away arter all?”
He shook his head feebly. “I meant it for the best,” he said; “I heard these chaps would be up to their tricks to-night, and I thought me and Stubbs ’ud catch them.”
“Oh, Jim,” said Betty, “ye told me a lie!”
“I meant it for the best, my dear,” he returned faintly. “I didn’t want ye to be frayed—poor little ’ooman! Ye mustn’t be vexed.”
Betty stooped and kissed him, and he closed his eyes.
“I reckon I’m goin’,” he said. “Well, I done my dooty. But what ’ull ye do, my dear?”
“I’ll manage,” said Betty.