CHAPTER XVI. FIGHTING DEATH
"You!" Mr. Linton said.
He had put Norah gently into the rough chair, and turned to DickStephenson, who was standing by his father, his lips twitching. Theygripped hands silently.
"You can recognise him?"
"I'd know him anywhere," the son said. "Poor old dad! You think--?"
"I don't know," the other said hastily. "Can't tell until Andersoncomes. But I fancy it's typhoid. You brought the things? Ah!" His eyesbrightened as they fell on the leather medicine-case Mrs. Brown hadsent, and in a moment he was unstrapping it with quick, nervousfingers..
The Hermit stirred, and gasped for water. He drank readily enough fromthe glass Mr. Linton held to his lips, while his son supported him withstrong young arms. There was not much they could do.
"Anderson should be here before long," Mr. Linton said. "What time didBilly leave?"
"A little after twelve."
"What did he ride?"
"A big black."
"That's right," Mr. Linton nodded. "Anderson would motor out toBillabong, I expect, and Mrs. Brown would have the fresh horses ready.They should not be very long, with ordinary luck. Billy left abouttwelve, did he? By Jove, Norah must have made great time! It was afterhalf-past ten when she left me."
"She and the pony looked as if they'd done enough."
"And she came back! I hadn't realised it all in the minute of seeingher," her father said, staring at Stephenson. "Norah, dear, are youquite knocked up?" He turned to speak, but broke off sharply. Norah wasgone.
Mr. Linton turned on his heel without a word, and hurried out of thetent, with Stephenson at his side. Just for a moment the Hermit wasforgotten in the sudden pang of anxiety that gripped them both. In theopen they glanced round quickly, and a sharp exclamation of dismay brokefrom the father.
Norah was lying in a crumpled heap under a tree. There was somethingterribly helpless in the little, quiet figure, face downwards, on thegrass.
Just for a moment, as he fell on his knees beside her, David Linton losthis self-control. He called her piteously, catching the limp body tohim. Dick Stephenson's hand fell on his shoulder.
"She's only fainted," he said huskily. "Over-tired, that's all. Put herdown, sir, please"--and Mr. Linton, still trembling, laid the littlegirl on the grass, and loosened her collar, while the other forced a fewdrops from his flask between the pale lips.
Gradually Norah's eyes flickered and opened, and colour crept into hercheeks.
"Daddy!" she whispered.
"Don't talk, my darling," her father said. "Lie still."
"I'm all right now," Norah said presently. "I'm so sorry I frightenedyou, Daddy--I couldn't help it."
"You should have kept still, dear," said her father. "Why did you goout?"
"I felt rummy," said his daughter inelegantly; "a queer, whirly-go-roundfeeling. I guessed I must be going to tumble over. It didn't seem anygood making a duffer of myself when you were busy with the Hermit, so Icut out."
Dick Stephenson turned sharply and, without a word, strode back into thetent.
Norah turned with a sudden movement to her father, clinging to the roughserge of his coat. Something like a tear fell on her upturned face asthe strong arms enfolded her.
"Why--Daddy--dear old Dad!" she whispered.
It was nearly twilight when Dr. Anderson and black Billy rode into theclearing, to the joy of the anxious watchers.
The doctor did not waste any words. He slipped off his horse and enteredthe tent. Presently Dick Stephenson came out and sat down beside Norahto await the verdict.
"I can't do any good there," he said, "and there's no room."
Norah nodded. Just then there seemed nothing to say to this son whosefather, so lately given back from the grave, seemed to be slipping awayagain without a word. She slid her hand into his and felt his fingersclose warmly upon it.
"I can stand it," he said brokenly, after a little, "if he can only knowwe--the world--knows he was never guilty--if I can only tell him that. Ican't bear him to die not knowing that."
"He'd know it anyhow."
The little voice was very low, but the lad heard it.
"I--I guess he will," he said, "and that's better. But I would like tomake it up to him a bit--while he's here."
Then they were silent. The shadows deepened across the clearing. Longsince the sun had disappeared behind the rim of encircling trees.
The tent flaps parted and the doctor and Mr. Linton came out. Dick roseand faced them. He could not utter the question that trembled on hislips.
The doctor nodded cheerily.
"Well, Norah?" he said. "Yes; I think we'll pull the patient throughthis time, Mr. Stephenson. It'll be a fight, for he's old and weakenedby exposure and lack of proper food, but I think we'll do it." He talkedon hopefully, appearing not to see the question the son could notaltogether hide. "Take him home? Yes, we'll get him home to-morrow, Ithink. We can't nurse him out here. The express-wagon's following withall sorts of comforting things. Trust your old Mrs. Brown for that,Norah. Most capable woman! Mattresses, air pillows, nourishment--she'dthought of everything, and the wagon was all ready to start when I gotto Billabong. By the way, Billy was to go back to show Wright the way.Where are you, Billy? Why haven't you gone?"
"Plenty!" said Billy hastily, as he disappeared.
"Queer chap, that," said Dr. Anderson, lighting a cigarette. "That'sabout the only remark he's made all day, and in the motor he didn't sayas much--sat like an ebony statue, with his eyes bulging in unholyterror. I hear you've been flying all over the country, Norah. What doyou mean by looking so white?"
The tale of Norah's iniquities was unfolded to him, and the doctor felther pulse in a friendly way.
"You'll have to go to bed soon," he said. "Can't have you knockingyourself up, you know; and we've got to make an early start to-morrow toavoid the worst heat of the day for the patient. Also, you will take asmall tabloid to make you 'buck up,' if you know what that means,Norah!" Norah grinned. "Ah, well, Mr. Stephenson here will make youforget all that undesirable knowledge before long--lost in a maze ofEuclid, and Latin, and Greek, and trigonometry, and things!"
"I say!" gasped Norah.
"Well, you may," grinned the doctor. "I foresee lively times for you andyour tutor in the paths of learning, young lady. First of all, however,you'll have to be under-nurse to our friend the patient, with Mrs. Brownas head. And that reminds me--someone must sit up to-night."
"That's my privilege," said Dick Stephenson quickly. And all that night,after the camp had quieted to sleep, the son sat beside his newly-foundfather, watching in the silver moonlight every change that flittedacross the wan old face. The Hermit had not yet recovered consciousness,but under the doctor's remedies he had lost the terrible restlessness ofdelirium and lay for the most part calmly. In heart, as he watched him,Dick was but a little boy again, loving above all the world the tall"Daddy" who was his hero--longing with all the little boy's devotion andall the strength of his manhood to make up to him for the years he hadsuffered alone.
But the calm face on the bed never showed sign of recognition. Once ortwice the Hermit muttered, and his boy's name was on his lips. The pulsefluttered feebly. The great river flowed very close about his feet.