xpression suddenly sank out of his
eyes, while the girl flushed to the temples when they met her own.
"Now," he said very softly, "I shall get better. Nothing can stop me.
You will hold me fast, and not let go."
He drew her towards him, and Alice Deringham, seeing that the brief
flash of reason was fading again, yielded to the feeble pressure, and
sank to her knees holding fast the hot fingers that drew her hand to
his breast. Then moved by an impulse swift and uncontrollable she bent
a little farther and kissed him on the cheek. Alton said nothing, but
opened his eyes and smiled at her, and then lay still.
For a space of minutes the girl dare scarcely breathe. Everything, she
had been told, depended upon the sick man sleeping, and now he was very
quiet. Then she raised her head and glanced at him. He had not moved
at all, and his face was tranquil, but the hot fingers still clung to
her hand. It was borne in upon her that she could in verity draw him
back from the darkness he was slipping into, and with a great fear and
compassion she held the hot fingers fast. There was no longer any
snapping in the stove. The roar of the pines grew louder and the room
grew cold, but while the minutes slipped by Alton slept peacefully,
with the hand of the woman he had dispossessed in his, and she
forgetting her fatigue watched him with eyes that filled with
tenderness.
Still, she was not more than a woman, and at last the eyes grew hazy,
while every joint ached. There was a horrible cramp in her shoulder,
and to lessen it she moved a trifle so that her arm rested on the
pillow. That was easier, and while she struggled with her weariness
her head followed it, until it sank down close by Alton's shoulder.
Then for five minutes she fought with her weakness, and was vanquished,
for her head settled lower into its resting place, and her eyes closed.
It was some little time later when Seaforth came very softly into the
room, and stopped with a little gasp. He could just see his comrade's
face, and it was still and serene, but there was a gleam of red-gold
hair beside it on the coverlet, and now a shapely arm was flung
protectingly about the sick man's shoulder. The girl was also very
still, and a little flush of colour crept into Seaforth's face as he
stooped above her and saw the clasped hands.
"Thank God!" he said.
Then he moved backwards on tiptoe towards Deringham's room, but
apparently changed his intention
|