“He's worth a dozen dead men, Ma'am; he's jest stunned; that's all!”
There was another long wait, then Dr. Rathbone appeared.
“Porter will be all right, Madame; it'll take time; it'll take time—and nursing. But you're getting used to that,” he added, with a smile, “but,” and he looked fixedly at Allis, “he must have quiet; excitement will do more harm than the fall.”
“Tell me the truth, doctor,” pleaded Mrs. Porter, struggling to her feet, and placing both hands on his shoulders, “I can stand it—see, I'm brave.”
“I've told you the truth, Mrs. Porter,” the doctor answered. “There's no fear for your husband's recovery if he has quiet for a few days.”
She looked into his eyes. Then crying, “I believe you, doctor; thank God for his mercy!” swayed, and would have fallen heavily but for Mike's ready arm.
“She'll be better after that,” said the doctor, addressing Allis. “It has been a hard pull on her nerves. Just bathe her temples, and get her to sleep, if you can. I'll come back soon. Your father is not conscious, or will he be, I'm thinking, for a day or two. He has heavy concussion. Cynthia has full directions what to do.”
XVI
After Dr. Rathbone had left Mike and Carter went down to the stables.