CHAPTER XVII
LIGHTS OUT
"There was two of every single thing in the Ark," said Geoffreyfirmly. "The man in Church read it out of the Bible."
"Two Teddy-bears?" asked Alison.
"No; Teddies are only toys. There was real bears, though."
"Meat ones?" asked his sister hopefully.
"Yes. And all the other nanimals."
"Who drived 'em in?"
"Ole Noah and Mrs. Noah. Mustn't they have had a time! If you triedto drive in our turkeys an sheep and cows together there'd be awfultrouble--and Noah had lions and tigers and snakes too."
"Perhaps he had good sheep-dogs," Norah suggested. She was sewingwith Mrs. Hunt under a tree on the lawn, while the children playedwith a Noah's Ark on a short-legged table near them.
"He'd need them," Geoffrey said. "But would sheep-dogs be any good atdriving snakes and porklepines, Norah?"
"Noah's might have been," Norah answered prudently. "They must havebeen used to it, you see. And I believe a good sheep-dog would getused to anything."
"Funny things ole Noah and his fam'ly wore," said Geoffrey, looking atJaphet with disfavour. "Like dressing-gowns, only worse. Wouldn'thave been much good for looking after nanimals in. Why, even the LandArmy girls wear trousers now!"
"Well, fashions were different then," said Mrs. Hunt. "Perhaps, too,they took off the dressing-gowns when they got inside the Ark, and hadtrousers underneath."
"Where'd they keep all the food for the nanimals, anyhow?" Geoffreydemanded. "They'd want such a lot, and it would have to be alldifferent sorts of food. Tigers wouldn't eat vegi-tubbles, likerabbits."
"And efalunts would eat buns," said Alison anxiously. "Did Mrs. Noahmake vem buns?"
"She couldn't, silly, unless she had a gas-stove," said Geoffrey."They couldn't carry firewood as well. I say, Mother, don't you thinkthe Ark must have had a supply-ship following round, like the Navyhas?"
"It isn't mentioned," said Mrs. Hunt.
"I say!" said Geoffrey, struck by a new idea that put aside thequestion of supply. "Just fancy if a submarine had torpedoed the Ark!Wouldn't it have been exciting!"
"Let's do it in the bath," said Alison, delightedly.
"All right," Geoffrey said. "May we, Mother?"
"Oh, yes, if you don't get too wet," his mother said resignedly."They can all swim, that's a comfort.
"We'll muster them," said Geoffrey, bundling the animals into a heap."Hand over that bird, Alison. I say, Mother, which came first, a fowlor an egg?"
Mrs. Hunt sighed.
"It isn't mentioned," she said. "Which do you think?"
"Fowl, I 'specs," answered her son.
"_I_ fink it was ve egg," said Alison.
"How would it be hatched if it was, silly?" demanded her brother."They didn't have ink-ink-inklebaters then."
Alison puckered her brows, and remained undefeated.
"P'raps Adam sat on it," she suggested.
"I cannot imagine Adam being broody," said Mrs. Hunt.
"Well, anyhow, he hatched out Eve!" said Geoffrey. No one ventured tocombat this statement, and the children formed themselves into astretcher party, bearing the Ark and its contents upon a tray in thedirection of the bathroom.
"Aren't they darlings?" Norah said, laughing. "Look at that Michael!"
Michael was toddling behind the stretcher-party as fast as his fatlegs would permit, uttering short and sharp shrieks of anguish lest heshould be forgotten. Geoffrey gave the order, "Halt!" and the Ark andits bearers came to a standstill.
"Come along, kid," said the commanding officer. "You can be theband." The procession was re-formed with Michael in the lead, tootingproudly on an imaginary bugle. They disappeared within the house.
"They are growing so big and strong," said Mrs. Hunt thankfully."Michael can't wear any of the things that fitted Geoff at his age; asfor Alison, nothing seems to fit her for more than a month or two;then she gracefully bursts out of her garments! As for Geoff----!But he is getting really too independent: he went off by himself tothe village yesterday, and I found him playing football behind one ofthe cottages with a lot of small boys."
"Oh--did you?" Norah said, looking a little worried. "We heard justbefore I came over this morning that there is a case of fever in thevillage--some travelling tinker-people seem to have brought it. Dadsaid I must tell you we had better not let the children go down therefor the present."
"There were some gipsy-looking boys among the crowd that Geoff wasplaying with," Mrs. Hunt said anxiously. "I do hope he hasn't run anyrisk. He is wearing the same clothes, too--I'll take them off him,and have them washed." She gathered up her sewing hurriedly. "But Ithink Geoff is strong enough now to resist any germ."
"Oh, of course he is," Norah answered. "Still, it doesn't do any harmto take precautions. I'll come and help you, Mrs. Hunt."
Geoffrey, congenially employed as a submarine commander about totorpedo the Ark, was distinctly annoyed at being reduced to a meresmall boy, and an unclad one at that.
"I don't see why you want to undress me in the middle of the morning,"he said, wriggling out of his blue jersey. "And it isn't washing-day,either, and Alison and Michael'll go and sink the Ark without me ifyou don't hurry."
"I won't let them, Geoff," Norah reassured him. "I'm an airshipcommander cruising round over the submarine, and she doesn't dare toshow so much as the tip of her periscope. Of course, when her captaincomes back, he'll know what to do!"
"Rather!" said the Captain, wriggling this time in ecstasy. "I'lljust put up my anti-aircraft gun and blow the old airship tosmithereens."
Alison uttered a howl.
"_Won't_ have Norah made into smivvereens!"
"Don't you worry darling, I'll dodge," said Norah.
"Michael, what are you doing with Mrs. Noah?"
"Not want my dear 'ickle Mrs. Noah dwowned," said Michael, concealingthe lady yet more securely in his tiny pocket. "She good. Michael_loves_ her."
"Oh, rubbish, Michael! put her back in the Ark," said Geoffreywrathfully. "However can we have a proper submarining if you go andcollar half the things?"
"Never collared nuffig," said Michael, unmoved. "Only tooked my dear'ickle Mrs. Noah."
"Never mind Geoff--he's only a small boy," Mrs. Hunt said.
"_Isn't_ a small boy!" protested Michael furiously. "Daddy said I was'normous."
"So you are, best-beloved," laughed Norah, catching him up. "Now thesubmarine commander has on clean clothes, and you'd better get readyto go on duty." Geoffrey dashed back to the bath with a shout ofdefiance to the airship, and the destruction of the Ark proceededgaily.
"There!" said Mrs. Hunt, putting Geoffrey's garments into a tub."It's just as well to have them washed, but I really don't thinkthere's any need to worry."
"I don't think you need, indeed!" said Norah, laughing, as a medley ofsound came from the bathroom.
It was an "off" day for Norah. With Miss de Lisle she had potted andpreserved every variety of food that would lend itself to suchtreatment, and now the working season was almost over. For the firsttime the Home for Tired People had not many inmates, owing to the factthat leave had been stopped for several men at the Front who hadarranged to spend their holiday at Homewood. They had with them anelderly colonel and his wife; Harry Trevor and another Australian; asilent Major who played golf every hour of daylight, and read golfliterature during the other part of the day; and a couple of sappers,on final leave after recovering from wounds. To-day the Colonel andhis wife had gone up to London; the others, with the exception ofMajor Mackay, who, as usual, might be seen afar upon the links, hadgone with Mr. Linton to a sale where he hoped to secure some unusuallydesirable pigs; the sappers, happy in ignorance, promised themselvesmuch enjoyment in driving them home. Left alone, therefore, Norah hadgone for the day to Mrs. Hunt, ostensibly to improve her French andneedlework, but in reality to play with the babies. Just how much theHunt babies had helped her onl
y Norah herself knew.
"I'm asked to a festivity the day after to-morrow," Mrs. Hunt saidthat afternoon. They were having tea in the pleasant sitting-room ofthe cottage; sounds from the kitchen indicated that Eva was giving hercelebrated performance of a grizzly bear for the benefit of thechildren. The performance always ended with a hunt, and with theslaying of the quarry by Geoffrey, after which the bear expired withlingering and unpleasant details. "Douglas's Colonel is in London onleave, and he and his wife have asked me to dine and go to a theatreafterwards. It would mean staying in London that night, of course."
"So of course you'll go?"
"I should love to go," Mrs. Hunt admitted. "It would be jolly initself, and then I should hear something about Douglas; and all heever tells me about himself might be put on a field postcard. If thebabies are quite well, Norah, do you think you would mind takingcharge?"
Norah laughed. She had occasionally come to sleep at the cottageduring a brief absence on Mrs. Hunt's part, and liked nothing better.
"I should love to come," she said. "But you'd better not put it thatway, or Eva will be dreadfully injured."
"I don't--to Eva," smiled Mrs. Hunt. "She thinks you come over incase she should need any one to run an errand, and therefore permitsherself to adore you. In fact, she told me yesterday, that for ayoung lady you had an uncommon amount of sense!"
"Jim would have said that was as good as a diploma," Norah said,laughing.
"I rather think so, myself," Mrs. Hunt answered. "What about Wally,Norah? Have you heard lately?"
"Yesterday," Norah replied. "He decorated his letter with beautifulpeople using pen-wipers, so I suppose he is near Ypres. He says he'svery fit. But the fighting seems very stiff. I'm not happy aboutWally."
"Do you think he isn't well?"
"I don't think his mind is well," said Norah. "He was better here,before he went back, but now that he is out again I believe he justcan't bear being without Jim. He can't think of him happily, as wedo; he only fights his trouble, and hates himself for being alive. Hedoesn't say so in words, but when you know Wally as well as Dad and Ido, you can tell form his letters. He used to write such cheery,funny letters, and now he deliberately tries to be funny--and it'spretty terrible."
She paused, and suddenly a little sob came. Mrs. Hunt stroked herhand, saying nothing.
"Do you know," Norah said presently, "I think we have lost Wally morethan Jim. Jim died, but the real Jim is ever close in our hearts, andwe never let him go, and we can talk and laugh about him, just as ifhe was here. But the real Wally seems to have died altogether, andwe've only the shell left. Something in him died when he saw Jimkilled. Mrs. Hunt--do you think he'll ever be better?"
"I think he will," Mrs. Hunt said. "He is too fine and plucky to bealways like this. You have to remember that he is only a boy, andthat he had the most terrible shock that could come to him. It musttake time to recover."
"I know," Norah said. "I tried to think like that--but it hurts so,that one can't help him. We would do anything to make him feelbetter."
"And you will, in time. Remember, you and your father are more to himthan any one else in the world. Make him feel you want him; I thinknothing else can help him so much." Mrs. Hunt's eyes were full oftears. "He was such a merry lad--it breaks one's heart to think ofhim as he is."
"He was always the cheerfullest person I ever saw," said Norah. "Hejust laughed through everything. I remember once when he was bittenby a snake, and it was hours before we could get a doctor. We werenearly mad with anxiety, and he was in horrible pain with thetourniquet, but he joked through it all in the most ridiculous way.And he was always so eager. It's the last thing you could call himnow. All the spring has gone out of him."
"It will come back," Mrs. Hunt said. "Only keep on trying--let himsee how much he means to you."
"Well, he's all we have left," said Norah. There was silence for amoment; and then it was a relief when the children burst into theroom.
They all went to the station two days later to see Mrs. Hunt off forher excursion. Michael was not to be depended upon to remain bravewhen a train actually bore his mother away, so they did not wait tosee her go; there were errands to be done in the village, and Norahbundled them all into the governess-cart, giving Geoffrey the reins,to his huge delight. He turned his merry face to his mother.
"Good-bye, darling! Take care of yourself in London Town!"
"I will," said his mother. "Mind you take care of all the family.You're in charge, you know, Geoff."
"Rather!" he said. "I'm G.O.C., and they've got to do what I tellthem, haven't they? And Mother--tell the Colonel to send Fatherhome."
"Then you won't be G.O.C.," said Norah.
"Don't want to be, if Father comes," said Geoffrey, his eyes dancing."You'll tell him, won't you, Mother?"
"Indeed I will," she said. "Now, off you go. Don't put the cart intothe ditch, Geoff!"
"Isn't you insulting," said her son loftily. "But womens don'tunderstand!" He elevated his nose--and then relented to fling herkisses as the pony trotted off. Mrs. Hunt stood at the stationentrance to watch him for a moment--sitting very straight and stiff,holding his whip at the precise angle taught by Jones. It was such aheartsome sight that the incoming train took her by surprise, and shehad barely time to get her ticket and rush for a carriage.
Norah and her charges found so much to do in the village that whenthey reached home it was time for Michael's morning sleep. Evabrooked no interference with her right of tucking him up for thisperiod of peace, but graciously permitted Norah to inspect the processand kiss the rosy cheek peeping from the blankets. Then Alison andGeoffrey accompanied her to the house, and visited Miss de Lisle inher kitchen, finding her by a curious chance, just removing from theoven a batch of tiny cakes of bewildering attractions. Norah lostthem afterwards, and going to look for them, was guided by sound toAllenby's pantry, where that most correct of butlers was found on hishands and knees, being fiercely ridden by both his visitors, when itwas very pleasant to behold Allenby's frantic endeavours to get to hisfeet before Norah should discover him, and yet to avoid upsetting hisriders. Then they called upon Mr. Linton in his study, but findinghim for once inaccessible, being submerged beneath accounts andcheque-books, they fell back upon the billiard-room, where HarryTrevor and Bob McGrath, his chum, welcomed them with open arms, andromped with them until it was time for Norah to take them home todinner.
"Awful jolly kids," said Harry. "Why don't you keep them here forlunch, Norah?"
"Eva would be terribly hurt," said Norah. "She always cookseverything they like best when Mrs. Hunt is away--quite regardless oftheir digestions."
"Well, can't they come back afterwards? Let's all go for a walksomewhere."
"Oh, do!" pleaded Geoffrey. "Could we go to the river, Norah?"
"Yes, of course," said Norah. "Will it be too far for Alison,though?"
"Not it--she walked there with Father when he was home last time. Dolet's."
"Then we must hurry," said Norah. "Come along, or Eva will think wehave deserted her."
They found Eva slightly truculent.
"I was wonderin' was you stayin' over there to dinner," she said. "Iknow I ain't one of your fine lady cooks with a nime out of the'Family 'Erald,' but there ain't no 'arm in that there potato pie, forall that!"
"It looks beautiful," said Norah, regarding the brown pieaffectionately. "I'm so glad I'm here for lunch. What does Michaelhave, Eva?"
"Michael 'as fish--an' 'e 'as it out in the kitchen with me," said Evafirmly. "An' 'is own little baby custid-puddin'. No one but me evercooks anythink for that kid. Well, of course, you send 'im cakes an'things," she added grudgingly.
"Oh, but they're not nourishment," said Norah with tact.
"No," said Eva brightening. "That's wot I says. An' nourishment iswot counts, ain't it?"
"Oh, rather!" Norah said. "And isn't he a credit to you! Well, comeon, children--I want
pie!" She drew Alison's high chair to the table,while Eva, departing to the kitchen, relieved her feelings with aburst of song.
They spent a merry afternoon at the river--a little stream which wentgurgling over pebbly shallows, widening now and then into a broadpool, or hurrying over miniature rapids where brown trout lurked.Harry and Bob, like most Australian soldiers in England, werethemselves only children when they had the chance of playing withbabies; they romped in the grass with them, swung them on low-growingboughs, or skimmed stones across placid pools, until the sun grew lowin the west, and they came back across the park. Norah wheeledMichael in a tiny car; Bob carried Alison, and presently Geoffreyadmitted that his legs were tired, and was glad to ride home astrideHarry's broad shoulders. Mr. Linton came out to meet them, and theyall went back to the cottage, where Eva had tea ready and was slightlyaggrieved because her scones had cooled.
"Now, you must all go home," Norah told her men-folk, after tea."It's late, and I have to bath three people."
"Don't we see you again?" Harry asked.
"You may come over to-night if you like--Dad is coming," Norah said."Geoff, you haven't finished, have you?"
"I don't think I'm very hungry," Geoffrey said. "May I go and shut upmy guinea-pigs?"
"Yes, of course. Alison darling, I don't think you ought to have anymore cakes."
"I always has free-four-'leven when mother is at home," said Alisonfirmly, annexing a chocolate cake and digging her little white teethinto it in the hope of averting any further argument. "Michaeldoesn't want more, he had Geoff's."
"Geoff's? But didn't Geoff eat any?"
"Geoff's silly to-night," said his sister. "Fancy not bein' hungrywhen there was choc'lit cakes!"
"I hope he didn't get too tired," Norah said to herself anxiously."I'll hurry up and get them all to bed."
She bathed Michael and Alison, with Eva in attendance, and tucked themup. They were very sleepy--too sleepy to be troubled that Mother wasnot there to kiss them good night; indeed, as Norah bent over Michael,he thought she was his mother, and murmured, "Mum-mum," in the dusk ina little contented voice. Norah put her cheek down to the rose-leafone for a moment, and then hurried out.
"Geoff! Where are you, Geoff?"
"I'm here," said Geoffrey, from the back doorstep. He rose and cametowards her slowly. Something in his face made her vaguely uneasy.
"Ready for bed, old chap?" she asked. "Come on--are you tired?"
"My legs are tired," Geoffrey said. "And my head's queer. It keepsturning round." He put out a little appealing hand, and Norah took itin her own. It was burning hot.
"I--I wish Mother was home," the boy said.
Norah sat down and took him on her knee. He put his head against her.
"You must just let old Norah look after you until Mother comes back,"she said gently. The memory of the fever in the village came to her,and she turned sick with fear. For a moment she thought desperatelyof what she must do both for Geoffrey and for the other children.
"I won't bath Master Geoff; he is tired," she said to Eva. Shecarried the little fellow into his room and slipped off his clothes;he turned in the cool sheets thankfully.
"Lie still, old man; I'll be back in a moment," Norah said. She wentout and called to Eva, reflecting with relief that the girl's hardCockney sense was not likely to fail her.
"Eva," she said, "I'm afraid Master Geoff is ill. You know there isfever in the village, and I think he has it. I mustn't go near anyone, because I've been looking after him. Run over to the house andtell Mr. Linton I would like him to come over--as quickly as possible.Don't frighten him."
"Right-oh!" said Eva. "I won't be 'arf a tick."
Her flying feet thudded across the grass as Norah went back to theroom where Geoffrey was already sleeping heavily. She looked down atthe little face, flushed and dry; in her heart an agony of dread forthe Mother, away at her party in London. Then she went outside towait for her father.
He came quickly, accompanied by Miss de Lisle and Harry Trevor.
"I telephoned for the doctor directly I got your message," he said."He'll be up in a few minutes."
"Thank goodness!" said Norah. "Of course it may not be the fever.But it's something queer."
"The little chap wasn't all right down at the river," Harry said."Only he kept going; he's such a plucky kid. But he sat jolly quieton me coming home."
"I knew he was quiet; I just thought he was a bit tired," Norah said."I say, Daddy, what about the other children?"
"What about you?" he asked. His voice was hard with anxiety.
"Me?" said Norah, staring. "Why, of course I must stay with him, Dad.He's in my charge."
"Yes, I suppose you must," said David Linton heavily. "We'll find outfrom the doctor what precautions can be taken."
"Oh, I'll be all right," Norah said. "But Alison and Michael mustn'tstay here."
"No, of course not. Well, they must only come to us."
"But the Tired People?" Norah asked.
Miss de Lisle interposed.
"There are hardly any now--and two of the boys go away to-morrow," shesaid. "The south wing could be kept entirely for the children,couldn't it, Mr. Linton? Katty could look after them there--they arefond of her."
"That's excellent," said Mr. Linton. "I really think the risk to thehouse wouldn't be much. Any of the Tired People who were worriedwould simply have to go away. But the children would not come nearany of them; and, please goodness, they won't develop fever at all."
"Then I'll go back and have a room prepared," Miss de Lisle said; "andthen I'll get you, Mr. Harry, to help me bundle them up and carry themover. We mustn't leave them in this place a minute longer than we canhelp. That lovely fat Michael!" murmured Miss de Lisle incoherently.She hurried away.
There was a hum of an approaching motor presently, and the doctor'scar came up the drive. Dr. Hall, a middle-aged and over-worked man,looked over Geoffrey quickly, and nodded to himself, as he tucked histhermometer under the boy's arm. Geoffrey scarcely stirred in hisheavy sleep.
"Fever of course," said the doctor presently, out in the hall. "No, Ican't say yet whether he'll be bad or not, Miss Norah. We'll do ourbest not to let him be bad. Mrs. Hunt away, is she? Well, I'll sendyou up a nurse. Luckily I've a good one free--and she will bringmedicines and will know all I want done." He nodded approval of theirplans for Alison and Michael. Mr. Linton accompanied him to his car.
"Get your daughter away as soon as you can," the doctor said. "It's abeastly species of fever; I'd like to hang those tinkers. The childin the village died this afternoon."
"You don't say so!" Mr. Linton exclaimed.
"Yes; very bad case from the first. Fine boy, too--but they didn'tcall me in time. Well, this village had forgotten all about fever."He jumped into the car. "I'll be up in the morning," he said; andwhirred off into the darkness.
Alison and Michael, enormously amused at what they took to be a newgame, were presently bundled up in blankets and carried across toHomewood; and soon a cab trundled up with a brisk, capable-lookingnurse, who at once took command in Geoffrey's room.
"I don't think you should stay," she said to Norah. "The maid and Ican do everything for him--and his mother will be home to-morrow. Agood hot bath, with some disinfectant in it, here; then leave all yourclothes here that you've worn near the patient, and run home in freshthings. No risk for you then."
"I couldn't leave Geoff," Norah said. "Of course I won't interferewith you; but his mother left him to me while she was away. And hemight ask for me."
"Well, it's only for your own sake I was advising you," said thenurse. "What do you think, Mr. Linton?"
"I think she ought to stay," said David Linton shortly--with feartugging at his heart as he spoke. "Just make her take precautions, ifthere are any; but the child comes first--he was left in our care."
He went away soon, holding Norah very tightly to him for a moment; andthen the nurse sent Norah to
bed.
"There's nothing for you to do," she said. "I shall have a sleep nearthe patient."
"But you'll call me if he wants me?"
"Yes--I promise. Now be off with you."
At the moment Norah did not feel as though she could possibly sleep;but very soon her eyes grew heavy and she dozed off to dream, as sheoften dreamed, that she and Jim were riding over the Far Plain atBillabong, bringing in a mob of wild young bullocks. The cattle hadnever learned to drive, and broke back constantly towards the shelterof the timber behind them. There was one big red beast, inparticular, that would not go quietly; she had half a dozen gallopsafter him in her dream with Bosun under her swinging and turning withevery movement of the bullocks, and finally heading him, wheeling him,and galloping him back to the mob. Then another broke away, and Jimshouted to her, across the paddock.
"Norah! Norah!"
She woke with a start. A voice was calling her name, hoarsely; shegroped for her dressing-gown and slippers, and ran to Geoffrey's room.The nurse, also in her dressing-gown, was bending over the bed.
"You're quick," she said approvingly. "He only called you once. Takethis, now, sonnie."
"Norah!"
She bent down to him, taking the hot hand.
"I'm here, Geoff, old man. Take your medicine."
"All right," said Geoffrey. He gulped it down obediently and layback. "Will Mother come?"
"Very soon now," Norah said. "You know she had to be in London--justfor one night. She'll be back to-morrow."
"It's nearly to-morrow, now," the nurse said. "Not far off morning."
"That's nice!" the child said. "Stay with me, Norah."
"Of course I will, old man. Just shut your eyes and go to sleep; Iwon't go away."
She knelt by his bed, patting him gently, until his deep breaths toldthat sleep had come to him again. The nurse touched her shoulder andpointed to the door; she got up softly and went out, looking throughher open window at the first streaks of dawn in the east. Her dreamwas still vivid in her mind; even over her anxiety for the child inher care came the thought of it, and the feeling that Jim was verynear now.
"Jim!" she whispered, gazing at the brightening sky.
In Germany, at that moment, two hunted men were facing dawn--runningwildly, in dread of the coming daylight. But of that Norah knewnothing. The Jim she saw was the big, clean-limbed boy with whom shehad ridden so often at Billabong. It seemed to her that his laughingface looked at her from the rose and gold of the eastern sky.
Then Geoffrey turned, and called to her, and she went to him swiftly.
*****
It was four days later.
"Mother." Geoffrey's voice was only a thread of sound now. "WillFather come?"
"I have sent for him, little son. He will come if he can."
"That's nice. Where's Norah?"
"I'm here, sweetheart." Norah took the wasted hand in hers, holdingit gently. "Try to go to sleep."
"Don't go away," Geoffrey murmured. "I'm awful sleepy." He halfturned, nestling his head into his mother's arm. Across the bed themother's haggard eyes met Norah's. But hope had almost died fromthem.
"If he lives through the night there's a chance," the doctor said toDavid Linton. "But he's very weak, poor little chap. An awful pity;such a jolly kid, too. And all through two abominable families oftinkers! However, there are no fresh cases."
"Can you do nothing more for Geoffrey?"
The doctor shook his head.
"I've done all that can be done. If his strength holds out there is abare chance."
"Would it be any good to get in another nurse?" Mr. Linton asked."I'm afraid of the mother and Norah breaking down."
"If they do, we shall have to get some one else," the doctor answered."But they wouldn't leave him; neither of them has had any sleep tospeak of since the boy was taken ill. Norah is as bad as Mrs. Hunt;the nurse says that even if they are asleep they hear Geoffrey if hewhispers. I'll come again after a while, Mr. Linton."
He hurried away, and David Linton went softly into the little thatchedcottage. Dusk was stealing into Geoffrey's room; the blind flutteredgently in the evening breeze. Mrs. Hunt was standing by the windowlooking down at the boy, who lay sleeping, one hand in that of Norah,who knelt by the bed. She smiled up at her father. Mrs. Hunt camesoftly across the room and drew him out into the passage.
"He may be better if he sleeps," she said. "He has hardly had anyreal sleep since he was taken ill."
"Poor little man!" David Linton's voice was very gentle. "He'sputting up a good fight, Mrs. Hunt."
"Oh, he's so good!" The mother's eyes filled with tears. "He doeseverything we tell him--you know he fought us a bit at first, and thenwe told him he was on parade and we were the officers, and he has doneeverything in soldier-fashion since. I think he even tried to takehis medicine smartly--until he grew too weak. But he never sleepsmore than a few moments unless he can feel one of us; it doesn't seemto matter whether it's Norah or me."
Geoffrey stirred, and they heard Norah's low voice.
"Go to sleep, old chap; it's 'Lights Out,' you know. You mustn't wakeup until Reveille."
"Has 'Last Post' gone?" Geoffrey asked feebly.
"Oh yes. All the camp is going to sleep."
"Is Father?"
"Yes. Now you must go to sleep with him, the whole night long."
"Stay close," Geoffrey whispered. His weak little fingers drew herhand against his face. Then no sound came but fitful breathing.
The dark filled the little room. Presently the nurse crept in with ashaded lamp and touched Norah's shoulder.
"You could get up," she whispered.
Norah shook her head, pointing to the thin fingers curled in her palm.
"I'm all right," she murmured back.
They came and went in the room from time to time; the mother, holdingher breath as she looked down at the quiet face; the nurse, with herkeen, professional gaze; after a while the doctor stood for a longtime behind her, not moving. Then he bent down to her.
"Sure you're all right?"
Norah nodded. Presently he crept out; and soon the nurse came and satdown near the window.
"Mrs. Hunt has gone to sleep," she whispered as she passed.
Norah was vaguely thankful for that. But nothing was very clear toher except Geoffrey's face; neither the slow passing of the hours norher own cramped position that gradually became pain. Geoffrey's face,and the light breathing that grew harder and harder to bear. Fearcame and knelt beside her in the stillness, and the night crept on.