"Can it be that black-looking surgeon? Herr Gott! he spoke as though he owned her. He has spent years in New York, they say. Belinda was in a hospital there, she told me. Have they known each other before?
"Tausend Teufel! I believe the girl is in love with somebody. Certainly not with that blockhead, Baum. With whom, then? With the Herr Doktor? Ach! How foolish! One could not love the Herr Doktor more than one could a stick or a stone. It must be somebody else and"—he asked the same question Carl Baum had asked—"if she loves and is so beloved, why did he let her come over to France to do this dangerous work in the hospitals?"
Meanwhile Belinda had reached the receiving ward and was ready at the operating table when Doctor Herschall arrived. There were other surgeons to help him, for there was no rush of new cases at present; and there were other nurses, too, if he needed them. Belinda knew it was merely a crotchet upon the part of the Herr Doktor to demand her presence here—especially after her long day's work in her own ward.
It was to show his authority—his power—over her that he had done this. Or was it pique because he had seen her talking familiarly with her cousin?
In any case it was out of the question for her to object. She knew that well. It was in Franz Herschall's power to crush her utterly with a word.
And not so much for her own safety did Belinda Melnotte bear this hard duty with patience, but because of the young aviator lying helpless in her ward—the man she loved and the man she must aid to escape from the deadly peril that menaced him.
"Soh!" said Doctor Herschall with satisfaction, but speaking aside to the nurse, when he had performed another surgical miracle, "this is like many old occasions, Miss Belinda, is it not? Hum! I shall call on you frequently hereafter. These other nurses are cows! If you like you may give up your ward entirely. I can easily place another day nurse there."
"Oh, no, Doctor!" she begged hastily. "I prefer to be busy. And my wounded would miss me."
"What? Those beasts? They would miss their sausage and beer—nothing more," he answered in contempt.
Belinda was as wearied as usual that night; she slept, however, but little. How much had happened within twelve hours! Never in her life had she passed so exciting a day.