CHAPTER XI
"Thy brother Death came, and cried, 'Wouldst thou me?' And I replied, 'No, not thee!'"--_Shelley_.
The electric lights gave out a kind of fictitious radiance against thedull grey of the hall windows through which the dawn was struggling.
The place was packed with girls. Some clustered near the baize door,standing nervously on tip-toe and with the intent of retiringprecipitately if there should be any sign of the Principal; others hungover the stair or gallery banisters; the domestic staff stood round theirown particular door, their white faces shining dully like Chineselanterns; no one spoke or moved. In fact they might have been posing fora photographer until those above suddenly swayed and bent this way andthat, and those in the hall parted to give way to Leonie.
Clad in crimson satin kimono, with feet thrust into crimson satinslippers and her hastily plaited hair hanging in two great ropes, shepassed through them like a flame, emanating strength and resolve and atremendous power of will. Although she looked neither to the right norleft as she ran swiftly and disappeared into the wing where lay herlittle friend, there was something very pleasing in the way the girls putout their hands to touch her as she passed; and something distinctlyencouraging in the whispered remarks that followed her, and which mightbe summarised in the "_Now_ it's all right," which under the highpressure of intense excitement almost burst from the lips of Annie Smith.
Like an arrow she sped to the bed, unconsciously pushing aside the womenwho, almost frantic with fear and quite out of their bearings, were doingtheir best to grapple with the problem of life or death so suddenlyplaced before them.
Kneeling, she turned the girl's livid little face towards her, vainlyfeeling for the pulse in the wrist and bruised neck; then sprang to herfeet, faced the Principal and took the situation into her strong, capableyoung hands.
"What happened? And have you sent for the doctor?"
Her usually sweet, clear voice was like the dull sound of a crackedearthenware pot when flipped by thumb and finger.
"Yes, dear!" was the quick reply. "The doctor will be here anymoment--and hot bottles and blankets are being prepared. Gertrude couldnot sleep and crept into Jessica's room to look for a German grammar forthe examination to-morrow--to-day, and found Jessica in--in this--faint."
And the elder woman suddenly laid a hand on the girl's arm and looked upat her with the confidence she always inspired. "Help me, dear!" shewhispered, with the dread of disgrace and an untimely ending to anhonourable career in her old grey eyes.
And Leonie smiled, answering with the superb confidence of youth, and aslight ray of hope pierced the suffocating fog of fear, and broughtCookie from the head of the bed where she had been standing in the shadeof a screen.
"Can I 'elp, Miss Lee-onny?"
"Cookie, _dear_--you and Miss Primstinn, Miss Leanto and--yes, andEllen--none of the girls--and quickly--there's not a moment to lose."
"The doctor's coming, Mum," said a voice from the half-open door.
"The doctor is coming, dear," repeated the Principal.
Leonie answered with a strange authority in her words.
"We will not wait for the doctor!" She passed the tips of her fingersslowly across her forehead and down her cheek to the back of her neck, aswas her habit when trying to solve some problem. "No, we will not wait,because--because _I_ know!"
Ten minutes later the door opened to let in a young man, who stood for amoment outlined against a sea of faces, and then turned and shut the doormost decisively and locked it.
"Who thought of that, I wonder," he said to himself, as he watched thefour women kneeling round Jessica stretched out upon the floor.
They were going through the movements used in resuscitating the drowned,and he, too, knelt at a nod by the side of the fat old woman in anemerald green moirette petticoat and a somewhat _declasse_ bedjacket, whowas breathing heavily through the unaccustomed exercise.
"Let us be--a bit, Sir!" she panted. "She don't some'ow feel--quite--asdead--like! Give us a--a chance. One--two--three--four. It'sthe--reg'lar--as does--it. Miss Lee--onny's orders--Sir--bless er----"
She jerked her head in the direction of Leonie, and the doctor looked.
Behind her friend's head she knelt, her plaited hair twining like snakesto the ground, her eyes closed, her mouth slightly open, and the fingersof both hands pressing the temples of the child upon the floor, whilst toand fro, lifeless, dull, swung the great cat's-eye from a gold chainabout the neck.
"Good God!" muttered the young doctor who, having travelled the world asship's surgeon, knew that the scalpel and soda-cum-gentian do notconstitute the whole of the art of healing.
As he looked a great bead of perspiration dropped from Leonie's forehead,between the taut arms, on to her knees; and a sudden shiver shook herfrom head to foot, and he heaved his overcoat into a chair, and edgedvery quietly until he knelt between her and Cookie.
"It's 'orrible, Sir!" the latter whispered, as she glanced at the pupilshe loved most.
And it was.
By now the perspiration was pouring in streams from the girl's face,whilst the slim body shook and shook like a young tree in a storm; herteeth chattered like castanets, her closed eyes were sunk in purple blackorbits, the cheeks were drawn and grey, and the nostrils were dilatinglike those of a far-spent horse.
"For Gawd's sake stop 'er. Sir--she's a-killing of 'erself."
The doctor shook his head, took out a brandy flask and a metal box from aleather case beside him on the floor. He held up the ready-filled glasssyringe to the light and sent a squirt of what looked like water throughthe gleaming needle.
"If the young lady shows signs of life I want you to get this brandy downher throat _at once_, and begin to massage her heart."
"Massige! that's same as kneading dough, ain't it, Sir!"
"That's it! Miss--Miss--oh! Leonie will want the most attention, she isonly just alive. I will give her another two minutes, and if nothing hashappened by then I'll stop her, though it'll be an awful risk!"
"What's she a-doin' of, Sir?"
"She's forcing her own life, her vitality into her friend; she'spractically raising the dead!"
"_Lor_, Sir!"
He had just raised his hand to touch Leonie, praying to heaven for thegirl's reason, when she suddenly flung back her head.
Up through the house-top, to the stars, the heavens, rushed the terriblecry, wailing as wails the wolf who has lost its mate, insisting asinsists one who has staked his all on one final throw, imploring asimplores the mother in the last dire throes of childbirth.
What the language was, what the words meant, to whom the prayer wasaddressed, no one knew.
But at the third terrible appeal to God, or Fate, or Death, or Life, andeven as those who listened outside and those who ceased their labours inthe room stuffed their ears with their fingers and sobbed, little Jessicaopened her eyes, and smiled just as Leonie, flinging up her arms, crashedface downwards on the floor.
Leonie of the Jungle Page 11