“Oliver Bolton, will you hush that noise?” shrieked his wife. “If the world was burnin' up you'd say it was nothing but a chimbley on fire som'er's.”
“Well, well, Pauliny, have it your own way, have it your own way,” said Bolton. “I ain't sayin' but what there's somethin' in William's story; but you'll see't he's exaggerated. Git up!”
“Well, do hurry, and do be still!” said his wife.
“Yes, yes. It's all right, Pauliny; all right. Soon's I'm out the lane, you'll see't I'll drive fast enough.”
Mrs. Bolton kept a grim silence, against which her husband's babble of optimism played like heat-lightning on a night sky.
Idella woke with the rush of cold air, and in the dark and strangeness began to cry, and wailed heart-breakingly between her fits of louder sobbing, and then fell asleep again before they reached the house where her father lay dying.
They had put him in the best bed in Mrs. Savor's little guest-room, and when Annie entered, the minister was apologising to her for spoiling it.
“Now don't you say one word, Mr. Peck,” she answered him. “It's all right. I ruthah see you layin' there just's you be than plenty of folks that—” She stopped for want of an apt comparison, and at sight of Annie she said, as if he were a child whose mind was wandering: “Well, I declare, if here ain't Miss Kilburn come to see you, Mr. Peck! And Mis' Bolton! Well, the land!”
Mrs. Savor came and shook hands with them, and in her character of hostess urged them forward from the door, where they had halted. “Want to see Mr. Peck? Well, he's real comf'table now; ain't he, Dr. Morrell? We got him all fixed up nicely, and he ain't in a bit o' pain. It's his spine that's hurt, so't he don't feel nothin'; but he's just as clear in his mind as what you or I be. Ain't he, doctor?”
“He's not suffering,” said Dr. Morrell, to whom Annie's eye wandered from Mrs. Savor, and there was something in his manner that made her think the minister was not badly hurt. She went forward with Mr. and Mrs. Bolton, and after they had both taken the limp hand that lay outside the covering, she touched it too. It returned no pressure, but his large, wan eyes looked at her with such gentle dignity and intelligence that she began to frame in her mind an excuse for what seemed almost an intrusion.