The trampling of many feet drew near, her husband rushed in, pale, breathless, trembling, and at sight of her burst out crying like a child. Then the wounded man was supported into the house, men and boys, and even women and girls crowding in after, till in a moment the room was full.
Rhoda Jane and the younger brothers and sisters were there, screaming and crying. Gotobed was silent, bearing his agony with the heroism of a soldier, but as his mother caught sight of his ghastly face, his mangled hands, the blood upon his person, and the surgeon with his instruments, she uttered a wild shriek and fell back fainting.
Her husband carried her into the kitchen, and some of the neighbor women gathered round with restoratives and whispered words of pity and condolence, while others hurried back and forth in quest of such articles as the surgeon called for.
Rhoda Jane rushed out of the kitchen door, and ran to the foot of the garden, screaming and wringing her hands, the younger ones following her.
Mildred could not go away and leave the family in their dire distress. She caught Gotobed's eye, and there was in it a dumb entreaty which she had neither power nor heart to resist.
Silently she made her way to his side. The doctors were clearing the room of all who were not needed.
"They're a goin' to take off my right hand," he said hoarsely. "It's an awful thing, but if—if you'll stand by me and let me look in your eyes, I can bear it."
She turned hers on the surgeon—Lucilla Grange's father.
"May I?"