saw the change made
she let nothing show. And when, presently, she called her husband from
the couch where he had lain, feverish and beginning to be tortured by
pain, and put him between the cool, fresh sheets, she had her reward in
the look he gave, first at the room and then at her.

"Decks all cleared for action," he commented with persistent
cheerfulness, "and the captain on deck. Well--let them begin to fire;
we're ready. All I know is that I'm glad I'm on your ship. Just pray,
Len, will you--that I keep my nerve?"

This was the beginning, as Burns himself had foreseen, of that which
proved indeed to be a long fight. Strong of physique though he
unquestionably was, pure as was the blood which flowed in his veins,
the poison he had received unwittingly and therefore taken no immediate
measures to combat was able to overcome his powers of resistance and
take shattering hold upon his whole organism. There followed day after
day and week after week of prostrating illness, during which he suffered
much torturing pain in the affected hand and arm, with profound
depression of mind and body, though he bore both as bravely as was to
have been expected. Two nurses, Amy Mathewson and Selina Arden,
alternated in attendance upon him, day and night, and Ellen herself was
always at hand to act as substitute, or to share in the care of the
patient when it was more than ordinarily exacting.

As she watched the powerful form of her husband grow daily weaker before
the assaults of one of the most treacherous enemies modern science has
to face, she felt herself in the grip of a great dread which could not
be for an hour thrown off. She did not let go of her courage; but
beneath all her serenity of manner--remarked often in wonder by the
nurses and physicians--lay the fear which at times amounted to a
conviction that for her had come the end of earthly happiness.

She was able to appreciate none the less the devoted and skillful
attention given to Burns by his colleagues. Dr. Max Buller had long been
his attached friend and ally, and of him such service as he now
rendered was to have been counted on. But concerning Dr. James Van Horn,
although Ellen well knew how deeply he felt in Burns's debt for having
in all probability saved his life only a few months earlier, she had had
no notion what he had to offer in return. She had not imagined how warm
a heart really lay beneath that polished urbanity of manner with its
suggestion of col