Before Gregory Jessup could jump from their machine the other car had struck and the boy was tossed like a bundle of empty clothing to the roadside beyond. The nightmarish suddenness of it all held them speechless while they gaped at the car’s driver, who gave one backward glance and redoubled his speed. Patsy was the first out of the tonneau, and she reached the boy almost as soon as Gregory Jessup.
“Damn them! That’s the second time in my life I’ve seen a machine run some one down and sneak—”
He broke off at Patsy’s sharp cry: “Holy Mary keep him! ’Tis the wee lad from Lebanon!”
By this time the rest of the carful had gathered about them; and Dempsy Carter—being a good Catholic—bared his head and crossed himself.
“’Tis wee Joseph of Lebanon,” Patsy repeated, dully; and then to Dempsy Carter, “Aye, make a prayer for him; but ye’d best do it driving like the devil for the doctor.”
They left at once with her instructions to get the nearest doctor first, and then to go after the boy’s parents. Gregory Jessup stayed behind with her, and together they tried to lift the still, little figure onto some rugs and pillows. Then Patsy crept closer and wound her arms about him, chafing his cheeks and hands and watching for some sign of returning life.
The man stood silently beside them, holding the pilgrim staff, while his eyes wandered from Patsy to the child and back to Patsy again, her face full of harboring tenderness and a great suffering as she gathered the little boy into her arms and pressed her warm cheek against the cold one.
Only once during their long wait was the silence broken. “’Tis almost as if he’d slipped over the border,” Patsy whispered. “Maybe he’s there in the gray dusk—a wee shadow soul waiting for death to loosen its wings and send it lilting into the blue of the Far Country.”
“How did you happen to know him?”
“Chance, just. I stopped to tell him a tale of a wandering hero and he—” She broke off with a little moan. “Ochone! poor wee Joseph! did I send ye forth on a brave adventure only to bring ye to this?” Her fingers brushed the damp curls from his forehead. “Laddy, laddy, why didn’t ye mind the promise I laid on ye?”