A Man: His Mark. A Romance / Second Edition

by W. C. Morrow

He did so, and it gave her infinite satisfaction to have him take the medicine from her hand. Soon his pain relaxed, and he fell into a heavy slumber.

While she watched him as might a mother her slumbering first-born, her soul warmed and expanded, and her one shy regret was that his head was not resting on her breast. But there were duties awaiting her. She took up the surplus ashes from the hearth. She revived the fire with the wood that he had heaped up at the chimney-side the night before. She put snow into a vessel to heat water. She stowed away his pallet. She prepared to make tea as soon as the water should be hot. In the performance of these and other minor tasks she was very happy, and for the first time since she had entered the hut she sang softly. The work was not easy, for she had little strength, being unused so long to exercise, and her lameness and the crutch interfered sorely.

One sting hurt unceasingly. She reflected that her host had decided to take to the bed under her persuasion, and that he had brought the provisions from the rear apartment so that she might prepare food during his helplessness; but this was because he had not trusted her to get the provisions herself,—had made it unnecessary for her to enter the forbidden chamber. As well as she could she tried to be generous; she tried to think that a man so kind, so thoughtful, so respectful, must have the best reasons for keeping her out of that room. If so, she had no right to expect his confidence. But why did he give her no explanation? Why should he not trust her to that extent? This was the sting that hurt.

In a vague way she believed that something ought to be put on his chest for the pain that he had suffered there.

She had an intense desire to do something for him. She thought that cloths saturated with liniment would be good for him. With great caution, to avoid waking him, she opened the garments covering his chest. He still slept heavily, for the medicine that he had taken carried a soporific element. When she had bared his breast and seen the frightful emaciation of his body, she quickly covered him, fell upon her face to the floor, and sobbed.

The day advanced, but still he slept. Her one hope now was that he would sleep into the night, for that would require her to sleep on the pallet before the hearth. She had another precious hope, and it was that they would at last eat a meal together; but she would rather that he slept; so, toward evening, she made a simple meal and ate her share alone, and kept his ready for him against his waking.

She marvelled that there was so much to do in so small a place, and that the day—the sweetest, she believed, of all the days of her life—had passed so quickly. At short intervals she would lean over him and listen to his short, half-checked breathing; or she would gently lay her cool hand upon his hot forehead, or hold one of his burning hands in hers, and then press it to her cheek. It seemed surpassingly wonderful that the strong man, strong in spirit only, should be lying now as helpless as an infant, wholly dependent upon her.

At times he was restless, and talked unintelligibly in his sleep; she was instantly at his side, to soothe him with her cool, soft hand upon his face; and when she saw that it always calmed him, she sighed from the sweet pain that filled her breast. Once, when he seemed on the verge of waking, she slipped her arm under his head, and gave him more of the medicine, which he took unresistingly, and slept again. As the night wore on, she made herself unhappy with trying to choose between sitting at his bedside and watching, and suffering the hardship that he had borne so long in sleeping on the pallet. While she was in the throes of this contention, another urgent matter arose. It had been her host’s custom to bring in a supply of wood every night. That which he had brought the night before was now exhausted, and more was needed. How could she get it. She knew that he had locked the back door and put the key into a certain pocket. She knew that she could not get the wood without the key. Procuring a supply of fuel was one precaution that he had overlooked when he had brought in a supply of provisions.

He was in a profound slumber. She could get the key, and thus provide the wood for the night. But would it be right to do so? If the fire went out the cold would be intense, and might prove fatal to him. If she should enter the forbidden room, would that be taking an unfair advantage of his helplessness? It was a hard problem, but in the end her sense of duty outweighed her sense of delicacy. With the greatest caution she slipped her hand into his pocket and secured the key. With equal caution she went to the door and unlocked it.

Then a great fear assailed her. What lay beyond the door? Might it not be some danger that only her host could safely face? If so, what could it be?... It were wise to have a candle; but search failed to discover one. She secured a small torch from the fire, and cautiously opened the door.