Out of the Storm Read online

  Perhaps something in her look touched the heart of the black woman, for she began to bustle softly about, fussing with blankets and quilts, and presently she stooped over the girl, gently disengaged her hand from the man's she still held, and made her lie upon the cot, throwing a light afghan over her.

  "Thar, now, yoh poo' li'l' honey chile! Thar, yoh jes' lay down yoh haid on dat nice sof' pillah and shet yoh eyes an' go to sleep. Mis' Battin and Corinne gwine tend to dat man, an' yoh needn't worry. Yoh jes' take a li'l sleep an' by 'n' by yoh git up an' tend him yohse'f. Thar now, li'l honey chile, don' yoh cyah. De sea can't swaller yoh up no moh, an' dat man gwine git well, so jes' go sleep."

  Gail sank down into the soft pillow and let the tired eyelids fall, not even trying to prevent the weak tears that slipped beneath her lids and coursed down her cheeks. It was very still in the room. The old lady and the black woman sat like statues watching their charges. The girl drifted into sleep almost at once.

  When she awoke again, it was night, and a candle was flickering somewhere on a high shelf, casting weird figures over the unpapered white paste of the wall. Some Japanese fans grouped in geometrical patterns on the opposite wall seemed like gaudy butterflies resting from a mad frolic. A tall vase filled with milkweed gone to seed rested on a shelf beneath them. The girl looked at them vaguely. The black woman stood beside the bed with a cup and a teaspoon feeding something to the still sleeper. He did not seem to object. He swallowed it without waking, for the spoon clicked back into the cup several times as if for more, and once she heard a long sigh from the man on the bed. But her body was too utterly weary to sense more than this, and her mind seemed unable to waken and take hold of the terrible questions that had pressed upon it before she slept. She closed her eyes again and let sleep drift about her once more, didn't open them when the nurse came to her with cup and spoon and fed her something warm and comforting.

  It was morning when she awoke the second time, how late she could not tell, but the sun was shining in a broad band on the floor from a window she could not see. A doctor stood beside the bed looking at the man. She knew he was a doctor by the leather case on the floor at his feet and by his look of self-forgetfulness as he studied the patient. She was instantly wide awake and trembling, every sense on the alert, but she would not stir. She must lie still and listen. She must watch without his knowing and discover just what he thought about the man, whether he would get well or not. For instinctively she felt he would not tell her. He would think her unfit to bear it. He would consider her only another patient.

  She lay quite still and watched between half-closed eyelids. But his grave face told little of what was passing behind it, and the low, gruff voice spoke only in monosyllables, directing the black woman or asking a question. The old woman hobbled slowly in on her crutches, looking more feeble in the bright light of the day than she had in the gloom of yesterday. She stood by the doctor and asked a few questions in a low, querulous tone, and the word concussion figured in his low-growled answer.

  "Why, a concussion! That's dangerous, isn't it, Doctor? You don't think he'll die here, do you? I don't know what we'd do if he were to die here while my son is away."

  The tears were trickling down among the wrinkles, and a helpless look was on her face. The doctor's voice was kind though gruff, as if she were a little child. He patted her on the shoulder and told her not to worry. The young man looked strong and vigorous, and he might pull through. He couldn't tell for a day yet, but all they needed to do was keep him quiet and give him the medicine and a little hot milk now and then if he would take it. He would return tomorrow morning as soon as the tide turned and see how things were doing. Then he turned to look at the girl in the cot.

  Gail's eyes were wide open now, and the gruff old man stooped over and laid a practiced hand on her wrist.

  "Well, how are you feeling, sister?" He greeted her quite as if she had just come from the train. "Had a rough passage, I hear. But your pulse is good and strong. I guess you'll be all right with rest. I'll just mix up a little medicine for you to take to ward off a cold. You have a splendid constitution, I should judge, to come through all that fright and exposure, and I guess you're a pretty nervy young woman. The young man made a fortunate choice of a traveling companion from all I can hear of you."

  A smile trembled over Gail's lips and lit up her face into rare beauty, and the old lady and the black woman who stood looking on exchanged glances of admiration. They had not had time to notice the girl's appearance before.

  Then Gail rose up, a faint color coming into her cheeks, and asked eagerly, looking toward the bed: "What is the matter with him, Doctor? Will he get well, or is he going to die?"

  The doctor looked at her keenly.

  "What is he to you, child?"

  She looked at him with steady eyes.

  "He saved my life, and I must save his if it is a possible thing. Is there anything that could be done that you have not done already?"

  "Yes." The keen eyes were looking her over. "Yes. I could have a specialist here from the city to see him. If anyone on earth could save him, Doctor Laudenberg could. He is the only one I know anywhere in this region that could do more than I could do."

  "If he were your"--Gail hesitated for a word--"son, would you send for the specialist?"

  "I most certainly would."

  "How much will it cost?"

  "About two hundred dollars."

  "Then will you please send for him at once," said the girl quietly. "I can pay for that."

  "Hasn't he any friends or family? I understand you are only an acquaintance. Couldn't we telegraph to his friends?"

  "If he has friends, I do not know who they are, and we cannot wait to hunt up the ship's record and take a chance on who he is. He turned back from taking his place in the last boat because he saw that I was being left behind. He waited to lash me to a raft and lower me to the water before he left the sinking ship, and he was injured as he plunged into the water. You see, I couldn't stop to hunt up any friends."

  "Do you mean you don't know him at all?"

  "Not at all. I never saw him before until just as the ship was sinking. I don't even know his name, you see, and so I'll have to do the best I can for him till someone else comes or till he comes to himself. I wouldn't feel right if I didn't do everything that was possible."

  "That's a great deal of money to put up for a stranger, young woman. There really is no obligation on you at all, you know. He may pull through without a specialist. We're only taking a chance, that's all."

  "We'll take no chances," said Gail, her eyes bright, two red spots on her cheeks. "How soon can that specialist be here?"

  "Probably on the two o'clock train if I hurry right across to telegraph."

  "Then please go at once! Don't waste a minute's time. And if there is anything that will be needed that cannot be bought here, will you please buy it for me and I will pay you.""

  Gail had risen in her anxiety and clasped her hands together eagerly. The doctor looked at her admiringly for one brief second. Then he held out his hand:

  "I'll go at once, and I'll get what is needed and bring it back, but I want to shake hands with you before I go. You're a girl in a thousand! In fact, I doubt if there are many more like you in the universe."

  He strode away without waiting to see the tears come into her eyes as she sank weakly back upon her cot again, half dizzy from her sudden rising.

  "Now, honey chile, yoh go lay down again!" cried Corinne, rushing to her with a cup of tea and a bit of toast she had been making.

  "No," said Gail determinedly, "I'm all right now, and I'm going to get up and take care of him. The other doctor from the city will be here at two o'clock and then we shall know what to expect. You didn't suppose I was going to let two of us stay here for you to take care of, did you? I had to get a little sleep before I was worth anything, but now I'm perfectly myself and I am very strong and well. Nothing ever hurts me."

  The old lady hobbl
ed up presently with a protest, but Gail would get up and go over to the bed. Presently the old lady touched her on the shoulder and motioned to her to come over to the other side of the room.

  "My dear!" Gail saw there were tears in her eyes. "My dear, you mustn't think because I was a little stupid at first that I grudge your being here. I'm glad we were on the island to help you when you landed. If we had gone as we planned last week, you might both have died. My son would be so glad that we could be of service to anyone in distress, and particularly to such a good girl as you seem to be. Now you mustn't worry a bit about staying here. In fact, I'm rather glad to have company, for it's very lonely being here alone. I wouldn't have planned to stay, only there were two other families going to stay till the end of this month. They changed their minds and went home the day after my son left. He would be terribly distressed if he knew they had gone. He doesn't like me to stay here alone. I never have before. So, you see, I'm rather glad you came to keep me company.

  "Now, my dear, if you feel able to be up, you ought to have some suitable clothing. You'll want to look all right when that city doctor comes, of course. You go upstairs to the left-hand bedroom, Corinne'll show you the door, and you'll find some things. You just look around and find what you want, and if you need anything more, ask Corinne for it. They belonged to our little girl, my son's daughter, Jeannette. She died a year ago, and I couldn't ever bear to give them away before, though my son has often begged me to. He thought it wasn't right. But now the Lord has sent you right here to the clothes without any of your own, and I'm perfectly willing you should have them. Now, it won't make me feel bad to see you in them. I'll be glad. Jeannette would like it. She was that kind of a girl, always wanting everybody else to have things and have a good time. Her things are all in the closet and bureau drawers just as she left them. She only went away for a day or two to visit last summer, but there was an accident, and she never came back here. So I'd like you to go up there and act just as if that was your room and put on what suits you best. No, don't say anything. It's all right. I'm not crying because I feel I don't want you to have them; it's because I--well--I can't help it. You make me think of Jeannette, you know. She was about your size. She was just nineteen. She had long pretty hair like yours."

  Gail took the little weeping old lady in her arms and kissed her.

  "You poor little dear," she said softly into her ear. "I love you, and I know just how you feel, for I've lost everybody in the world that belongs to me."

  Chapter 5

  Half an hour later, Gail came downstairs dressed in a little dark blue dress with narrow white frills on the waist, and her hair, which was thoroughly dry now and fluffed in its natural waves, put up in a simple girlish fashion that made her look very lovely.

  "Bress my soul, honey chile, yoh do look mighty sweet an' purty. It suttenly do my old eyes good to look at yoh!" said Corinne, standing arms akimbo as usual in the doorway to watch her come down the stairs. "Yoh suttenly hab purty eyes, an' hair. It do seem good to hab a young pusson round agin!"

  It was a strange day and a strange new world into which Gail had stepped. From the quiet round of waiting on disagreeable, unreasonable, selfish people, where she had nothing to look forward to but monotony and self-effacement, she had become the one to think and act in a serious matter. She had come through a set of most unusual circumstances into a situation that seemed to have no parallel in her knowledge, and she had no precedent from which to judge what might be right except the Golden Rule and her own sense of loyalty to the one who had so easily cast aside his own chance of life when he saw that she needed it.

  Again and again she turned her eyes to the bed to look on the face of the stranger who had not hesitated a second to pass the crucial test. She liked to study the fine strong lines of the face that seemed more and more boyish as she watched it and to wonder if in everything else in his life he would bear the test, as well.

  There was not much to be done until the doctor returned. The girl watched the clock and gave the medicine on the minute, learned how to get a few drops of nourishment between the tight-closed teeth and rejoiced to see that they were swallowed. The quiet hours passed, broken only now and then by low moans from the bed--not complaining moans, but sounds that seemed to be rent through great repression from the soul of the brave man. Gradually these moans grew more monotonous, but each one seemed to go through the girl's heart and fill her with a vague dread. Was all their effort to end in failure and death?

  The doctor had promised to look up the ship's list and bring it back with him if possible. She must be ready to think quickly and know what to do in case there was a name that fitted the initials on the watch. She must have telegrams already worked to send in case she was able to discover for whom to send. She looked at the pictured face in the locket and wondered if this sweet girl were one who had a right to know of his danger. She set her well-trained mind to work on those telegrams and worded them, for Father, Mother, friend, so that they would not hurt too much and yet would tell the truth. And through it all, she forgot herself completely.

  Once she wondered idly how it had fared with her former employer and whether she had found gentle treatment in the little boatload of refugees where she had so selfishly thrust herself. If Gail had been free, she doubtless would have tried to look her up. But now, with the responsibility of a human life upon her, she could not think of it. The woman who had so lightly cast her off without taking a moment's thought for her safety could have no claim upon her, and she would far rather go back to a secretary's life than follow the childish, spoiled creature round the world, even though it meant a big salary with luxury and travel. In fact, she had known after the first half hour of the voyage that her new position was going to be anything but delightful. If there had been any way of turning back to land and honorably providing otherwise for Mrs. Patton, she would have rejoiced to do so, even with no prospect of a future position.

  She had brought what little she had in money with her, a matter of three hundred and fifty dollars in bills sewed carefully into her garments, because she had a feeling that she must have money with her to get home with if at any time her position with her new employer should become unbearable. It had been with no idea that this relation would so terminate that she had made such preparation and withdrawn her small savings from the bank before leaving home. She had made this provision for a possible need because she had once read of a girl who was traveling abroad as a companion who had been dismissed without warning at the whim of an erratic mistress, without pay, stranded among strangers, with no way even to secure a new position, and with no money with which to pay her passage home.

  Gail sat by the window of the lonely seaside cottage and looked out across the waters. In the day's brightness, the sea smiled in heavenly blue with no likeness to the awful deep that had almost engulfed her but a few short hours before. She was glad that she had her money with her. Glad because it enabled her to procure for this stranger the means of life and health if such were anywhere to be found for him. Not for an instant did she think of herself and what it was going to mean for her to be in a new part of the country with no recommendations and no opening to earn a living. So long as that money lasted, it should be at his service who had so easily risked his life for hers.

  As the hour drew near for the great doctor to come, Gail found herself sitting with closed eyes, her whole soul lifted up with petition for the life that lay in peril. Once, when Corinne had taken the older lady upstairs to lie down and her heavy feet could be heard trotting solidly overhead, she slipped from her chair to her knees by the bedside and laid her cheek against the hot hand that was tossed out over the white bedspread. It seemed as if so she might bring the suffering one closer to the attention of her God in whose power his life was balanced.

  When the two doctors arrived, they brought with them an assistant and a nurse. Gail caught her breath as she looked up with steady eyes and faced them. She thought she knew what that must mean, the
possibility of an operation. For a moment her heart faltered over the long strain of anxiety. It did not occur to her that the patient was a stranger. Had he not become very near because they two had been shut away from the whole world with the deep while death stalked beside them for a time? Her heart tightened with the big responsibility she had taken upon herself.

  The doctor handed her a newspaper that gave a brief account of the wreck at sea and mentioned the names of a few of the passengers, but it did not give a full list of them. It spoke of a few who had been picked up by a passing steamer, and among the number Gail noticed first the name of Mrs. Adelia Patton, who had been taken at once to apartments in a hotel in New York. Strange that two days ago she and that woman were starting out for a winter pleasure trip--at least, Mrs. Patton expected pleasuring--and she herself was a necessary part of the machinery to that end. And now here she was miles away from New York in a strange house taking care of a strange man about whom she knew nothing and Mrs. Patton presumably happy and not knowing but that she was drowned.

  Well, she had no regrets for her lost position. Probably she could still have it if she telegraphed at once or went after it--that is, provided the woman did not hold a feeling of resentment toward her for the severe language that she had used toward her in those last desperate minutes. But no power could drag her away from her present self-chosen responsibility, and she felt sure that Mrs. Patton could find many more companions who would do her work as well as she could have done and be glad to have the opportunity.

  Things moved very quickly in the sickroom after the specialist took charge. As if by magic, they all assumed white linen uniforms, and all sorts of appliances seemed to be forthcoming from the suitcases that they had brought.

  Corinne retired into other regions and began concocting a delicious supper, now and then slipping silently to the door of the bedroom and stealing away again, murmuring low to herself with a shaking head: "Great day in de mawnin'! You tell me dat man ain't goin' die?"