He drew a little away from her. What he had to say he said looking fair into her blue eyes.
“To-day,” he said, “we must make der ache go—poof—foreffer!”
He snapped his fingers.
“The ache,” she questioned anxiously.
“Foreffer,” he assured her. “Und if it hurts you when it iss going—”
She smiled up into his face. She grasped his thumb.
“I ain’t skeered of bein’ hurted with you, I guess.”
He held his breath a moment. He couldn’t say any more after that.
So it was Burrell who was forced to prepare the maid for what was to be done. He did it as well as he knew how, but he made a bungling job of it. He left her gasping for breath with all the old fear in her eyes. The thing she could not understand was what had become of Santy. She called for him again and again.
The best Burrell could think of to tell her was that the Herr Doctor had gone to save a little girl from death and that he would come back as soon as he could.