"And win him a martyr's crown," said Frank not irreverently.
They looked into each other's eyes. His were filled with the light of courage; but Belinda's were misty with tears.
There was a whispering behind her in the ward as the girl stood alone. Some of the weaker patients might be harmed by all this excitement. Their temperature charts would tell the tale.
It suddenly smote Belinda Melnotte that in all probability temperature charts or other matters connected with this ward in which she had served so long, would mean very little to her in the future. Her activities here were finished in any case.
Jacob touched her arm gently.
"Fräulein," he said.
"Ah, Jacob. What is it?"
"The boys—all your patients, Fräulein—wish to tell you that their hearts are yours. You are in trouble. It may be that the Herr Doktor merely bullies you—he is that kind. But fear not. There are others higher than he who will see justice done."
"There is One Higher—I know," she said. "Thank you, Jacob."
She turned to face the ward. Every man who could was sitting or standing erect. Even those on their backs who possessed a whole hand saluted her.