"No," said he, "I don't feel at all well. I think I over-exerted myself at the mine."
Hazel and Chiquita insisted upon his consulting a physician, but Jack contended that it was "nothing; I will be all right in the morning."
His malady, however, grew more pronounced, the third day finding him with a high fever and in great bodily pain. A surgeon was called, who discovered that an immediate operation was imperative.
Jack protested, but finally yielded to the pleadings of his wife, and arrangements were made to take the then almost helpless patient to the hospital.
The carriage was driven to where Chiquita in great anxiety awaited their coming. The surgeon had preceded them, informing the matron that it was a case of blood poisoning, and arranged for the admission of his patient.
At 9 o'clock that evening the affected part was lanced, giving temporary relief, but this disclosed a dangerous complication which would require a tedious operation and a prolonged stay in the hospital.
The next morning, as Chiquita prepared Jack for the operating table, they joked about the medicine tepee and dwelt long upon the singular coincidence that should bring them together under such circumstances. Chiquita administered the anesthetics. While Jack was losing consciousness, struggling vainly to gasp a breath of fresh air, she recalled the vivid description of hospital life which he had so long ago on Rock Creek depicted to her. As the surgeon skillfully wielded his various instruments, and with the electric wire burned the sensitive flesh along the track of the affected part, Chiquita for the first time felt a sinking, gaping, craving of her heart.
She realized in that one moment what it meant. She felt that if Jack should die her heart would cease its tumultuous beating, that if he lived she should forever have to keep her secret and stifle the emotions which her love for him revealed.
A sudden thought surged within her. "No one would know; should she"—"He is not for me—I am a Ute's daughter, a degraded Indian. Can I live and see him the husband of another and not betray my secret? Oh, Jack! perhaps it had been better that Chiquita had never become a medicine tepee queen! Were it not better that the sister of the forest should never have been educated?
'A little learning is a dangerous thing;
Drink deep or taste not the Pierian spring;
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
And drinking largely sobers us again.'