He was silent so long that I thought he had ended; but presently, in a voice so low that it was just like a whisper, he added: “I thought she would forget, but she has not, and every fortnight she begins to sew her dress and I go over the mountains to give her peace; for each time she draws nearer to the end, and wears away more and more; and some day the thin blade will snap.”
“The thin blade” was already snapping, and even while he was speaking the last fibres were giving way.
The silence which followed his words was broken by Elsket; I heard a strange sound, and Elsket called feebly, “Oh, father.”
Olaf went quickly to her bedside. I heard him say, “My God in Heaven!” and I sprang up and joined him. It was a hemorrhage.
Her life-blood was flowing from her lips. She could not last like that ten minutes.
Providentially the remedies provided by Doctor John were right at hand, and, thanks to them, the crimson tide was stayed before life went out; but it was soon apparent that her strength was gone and her power exhausted.
We worked over her, but her pulse was running down like a broken clock. There was no time to have got a physician, even had there been one to get. I mentioned it; Olaf shook his head. “She is in the hands of God,” he said.
Olaf never left the bedside except to heat water or get some stimulant for her.
But, notwithstanding every effort, she failed to rally. The overtaxed heart was giving out, and all day she sank steadily. I never saw such a desperate face as that old man’s. It haunts me now. He hung over her. He held her hand, now growing cold, against his cheek to keep it warm—stroked it and kissed it. As towards evening the short, quick breaths came, which precede dissolution, he sank on his knees. At first, he buried his face in his hands; then in the agony of his despair, he began to speak aloud. I never heard a more moving appeal. It was a man speaking face to face with God for one about to enter his presence. His eyes were wide open, as if he saw His face. He did not ask that she should be spared to him; it was all for his “Elska,” his “Darling,” that Jesus would be her “Herder,” and lead her beside the still waters; that she might be spared all suffering and sorrow, and have peace.
Presently he ended and buried his face in his hands. The quick, faint breaths had died away, and as I looked on the still white face on the pillow I thought that she had gone. But suddenly the large eyes slowly opened wide.