CHAPTER XII
OF THE SHADOW.
As the night wore on, Mrs. Carruth and Mammy grew more and more anxiousfor their patient. The severe weather told upon him in spite of the eventemperature of the cottage, and he suffered as a man upon the rack. Withthe intense pain came higher temperature, and by one o'clock Mrs.Carruth began to see that further medical advice was imperative;something more than they could do must be done for Charles, for he couldnot endure such torture for many more hours. Furthermore, his breathinghad become very labored, and Mrs. Carruth feared the worst from thatsymptom. Without saying anything to Mammy she slipped noiselessly intothe Bee-hive, meaning to 'phone to Dr. Black. In that little sanctum allwas snug and quiet. Noiselessly removing the receiver, she tried to callup central. There was no response, and a shadow fell across her face.Then she tried her own home, but without result; the storm hadcompletely disorganized the entire service. She was sorely troubled andabout to slip back to Charles, when Jean's face appeared at the top ofthe stairway, and she called softly:
"Mother, is Charles worse?"
"Why, dearie! What are you doing out of your bed at this hour?"
"Don't scold me, Mumsey, I haven't been in it, only lying on theoutside, 'cause I thought you might need me; do you?"
"No, honey, certainly not. You must undress at once and get into bed."
"But, mother, _is_ Charles worse? If he isn't please let me go and sitwith Mammy while you come in here and go to bed; you have been up allnight. If he isn't worse you can be spared, and I'll be all the helpMammy needs. If he is worse you need me, anyway. I've had a long rest,and been asleep, too, though I tried hard not to."
As she talked, Jean tiptoed down the stairs, and, coming close to hermother, slipped her arms about her waist and nestled her head againsther shoulder. The past three months had made a great change in Jean. Fora long time it seemed as though she never meant to grow another inch,for at thirteen she was no taller than a child of eleven, although plumpand strong beyond the average child. Then she suddenly took a start andshot up, up, up, until now she was fully as tall as Constance, butslight and pliable as a willow wand.
Mrs. Carruth laid her arms caressingly about her shoulders, and restedher cheek against the wonderful hair: hair of the deepest, richestbronze, and soft and wavy to a degree.
"My little woman," she said, very tenderly.
"If I truly am, then let me do a little woman's part. You are tired andterribly worried about Charles. Let me come in and help."
"There is so little we can do, Jean. We have done practically all weknow how to do, and Dr. Black asked me to 'phone if there seemed to beany pronounced change. I haven't said anything to Mammy, because I donot want to alarm her more than I must; but I would give anything tocommunicate with him, and the wires are down."
"Yes, I know they are; Connie told me so before she went home, and thatwas one reason she wanted me to stay here: she was afraid you would needhelp during the night and be unable to get it."
Mrs. Carruth was about to reply, when Mammy's frightened face appearedin the doorway.
"Yes, Mammy! What is it?"
Poor old Mammy! One of the child-race, she was pitifully at a loss inthe face of such a situation as the present crisis. Had it been any ofher white folks she would have been efficient to the last degree,carrying out the precepts of "ole Miss," who "raised" her, rememberingwith marvellous accuracy each detail of that ante-bellum training, andperforming each with a patience and tenderness incomprehensible to thosewho have never known the heart-service rendered by those old-timeservitors. But, strange anomaly, though a characteristic so very markedin her race, Mammy was utterly helpless when it came to taking theinitiative for Charles or herself in sickness. Then she turned to her"white folks," and if her Miss Jinny had bidden her drink strychnine, orgive it to Charles, she would have obeyed her unquestionably. Strangepeople that they are!
"Please, come quick, Miss Jinny! I'se powerful trebbled. Charles hesought o' wanderin' in his min' and talkin' a heap o' foolishness."
Without a word Mrs. Carruth hurried from the Bee-hive in Mammy's wake,Jean, unnoticed, close behind her. As she entered the room Charles wassitting upright, talking wildly and gesticulating to some imaginaryperson at the foot of his bed. Mammy, true to her instincts, flung herapron over her head, and, dropping upon her knees in the middle of thefloor, cried:
"He sees de hants! He sees de hants! His hours done numbered!" andfollowed it up with earnest petitions for Charles' life. Mrs. Carruthknew colored people too well to waste time in expostulations. She knewthat the only way to bring Mammy back to her senses was to set aboutdoing for Charles the things which Mammy, in a more rational frame ofmind, would have done herself. Hurrying to his bedside, she said to thesemi-delirious old man:
"Why, Charles, did you miss me when I went to speak to Miss Jean? It isJean you wish to see, isn't it? Well, here she is right at the foot ofthe bed, but you can talk to her quite as well when you are lying down.There, that is better," as Charles, in obedience to her gentle easingdown, let her lay him back among his pillows. Mammy caught sight of theact, and it recalled her to her senses quicker than a whip lash couldhave done. Springing to her feet, she hurried to the bedside, and takingher mistress by both hands forced her into the chair near at hand,exclaiming under her breath:
"Bress Gawd, baby! wha', wha' yo' mean by liftin' dat heavy man?"
Mrs. Carruth had not misjudged, but she was none the less concerned forCharles who continued to ramble on to Jean, who stood at the foot of thebed. A distant clock struck one-thirty. Mammy was doing all she could toquiet Charles, while Mrs. Carruth slipped into the adjoining room toprepare some medicine for him. Jean chose that moment to hurry back tothe Bee-hive. A moment later the electric drop light was flashing itsmessage across the snow-bound garden to the darkened house beyond. Therewas no response. Again and again Jean turned the switch, flashing outacross the snow the bright light from the Tungsten bulb, and watchingeagerly for some response, but the house remained perfectly dark; and atlength, in despair, she gave up signalling and went swiftly back toMammy's side of the cottage. Creeping softly up to the bedroom shelooked in. Her mother was too much occupied with Charles to notice herreturn, and Mammy was placing hot water bags at the old man's feet. Fromthe anxious look upon her mother's face, Jean knew that she wasseriously alarmed for Charles, who was trembling and quivering with asudden chill. Without a word she turned and sped back to the Bee-hive.Five minutes later she opened the door and slipped out into the night.The storm had nearly ceased, but the clouds, driven by a wild, bleakwind, were still scudding across the sky. There was no moon, and itwould have been a brave star which dared send its cheerful gleam throughthat cloud rack. Upon the ground the snow lay in deep wind-driven banks,in some places higher than Jean's head. All the world was dark, silent,awesome. Jean never paused. She had formed her plans upon the instant,and was acting upon them as promptly. A hundred feet from the cottageold Baltie's stable loomed in the darkness, the snow upon the easternside of it banked high as the little window over his stall. Luckily thedoors were upon the southern, more protected side of the building; andafter struggling and wallowing through the snow until she was nearlybreathless, Jean reached them. Pausing a moment to recover her breath,she inserted the key in the lock and opened the smaller door. She wasinstantly greeted by a soft nicker. Baltie never slept when thefootfalls, however light, of those he loved drew near.
"Baltie, Baltie, dear," cried Jean, softly, running to the box andopening the door, switching on the light as she ran. But neither lightnor darkness meant anything to Baltie. His sensitive ears bounded hisworld of darkness, and love did the rest. His head was in Jean's arms ina moment.
"Can you do it, dear? Can you do it for Charles and Mammy? I wouldn'task you to if I could go alone, but you are bigger and stronger than Iam, Baltie, even if you are so old. Can you take me to Dr. Black'sthrough this deep snow? It isn't so very far, Baltie, and we'll becareful. Can you, Baltie? We must have him
, for Charles is so sick."
For answer the horse nestled closer to the girl, and nickeredrepeatedly.
"I know you mean 'yes,' dear. I know you do. I'll be careful, Baltie.I'll cover you up all warm and snug."
As she talked, Jean threw over Baltie's head the head and neck blanket,which Charles had insisted must be part of the old horse's impedimentaduring the severe winter months. Deftly pushing his ears into the earcoverings, she drew the hood over his head, his soft eyes shining uponher like two moons from the circular openings, and buttoned it aroundhis throat. An extra blanket was quickly added, and then the old saddlewas strapped on. Leading Baltie to the door, Jean switched off theelectric light, gave one lithe little spring and landed across thesaddle. It had not taken her long to shift from her ordinary clothinginto Constance's divided riding skirt up there in the Bee-hive, or toadd the heavy outer garments the inclement weather made necessary.
"Now, Baltie, we must go, we must, dear. Please, please do your best forCharles and Mammy, they have been so good to you."
As though he understood every word spoken to him, the horse bent to thedriving wind and plunged into the unbroken road. Dr. Black's home wasless than a mile from Mrs. Carruth's, and ordinarily Jean could havewalked it in less than fifteen minutes, or run it in ten, and had oftendone so; but all walks and roadways were now completely obliterated. Shemust trust to her sense of direction and to Baltie's wonderful instinct.
On plodded the good old creature, breaking into a light lope where thewind had swept the street comparatively free of snow, wallowing,pounding, pawing into the drifts where they barred his progress,snorting his protest, not at Jean, but at the elements, though neverpausing in his efforts, which made him breathe hard, and more than onceslow up for his second wind.
Jean had ridden from her earliest childhood, and had a man's seat in thesaddle. Now she leaned forward, her arms clasped about the great,heaving neck, the while speaking encouraging words into the ears laidback to catch her voice. As they drew near the more thickly settledportion of Riveredge, the blank, dense silence in which it lay impressedher strongly. During the first half mile the electric lights at measuredintervals cast their fantastic gleam and shadows upon the snow. In thissection they were numerous and brought into stronger relief the ghostlyhouses. Far off some shivering dog howled dismally, and instantly Jeanthought of old Mammy's superstitions, and her convictions "dat ef hehowl _two_ times an' stop, it sure is fer a man ter die." This dog hadhowled "two times." Jean was not superstitious, but she was the child ofsouthern-born parents, and had been "raised" by a very typical southern"Mammy." Tradition is very hard to overcome. She shivered, but not fromthe biting cold, though her feet were numb from it.
Not a human being was in sight as she turned into the street upon whichDr. Black's house stood five blocks further down. They might almost aswell have been fifty, for the street was narrower than most of theothers, and running north and south had caught the full brunt of thenortheaster. More than one piazza and front door was banked nearly tothe piazza roof, and the street itself practically impassable.
Baltie had come bravely thus far, but such a white mountain as now laybefore him was enough to daunt a young horse, much less an old blindone. He stopped, his flanks heaving, his head drooping. Jean was almostready to give up in despair, for the cold had chilled her to the bone,and feet and hands were almost without sensation.
"Oh, Baltie, Baltie, my dear old horse, can't you go a little further?Can't you, dear? Please, please try just once more. It's only a verylittle way now; only such a little way! I can see the light in front ofDr. Black's door. I'd get off your back and walk, or try to, if I didn'tknow that I couldn't go five steps. Come, Baltie, please try just oncemore."
Perhaps it was Jean's pleading, perhaps Baltie's wind had returned; atall events, he raised his head, gave a wild snort, a mad plunge, and,after a desperate struggle, floundered up to Dr. Black's gate. The housewas barely twenty feet from it, but the snow was up to Jean's waist.
She never knew how she forced her way through it, or reached theelectric button. She only knew she must do it somehow. When, in responseto its prolonged jingling by his bedside, Dr. Black came back to thisworld of real things from the world of dreams, into which a long, hardday of work and exposure had carried him, and making a hurried toilethastened down to the door, he found a huddled heap upon the doormat, andsaw in the drifts beyond a quivering, panting horse.
In two minutes the whole household was astir, kind Mrs. Black had Jeanup in her bedroom, the doctor administering restoratives, the doctor'sman had led Baltie around to the stable and was caring for him with allpossible despatch.
"Look after her, Polly, and don't let her leave that bed until I say shemay. I must be off to Mrs. Carruth's. I don't believe she even knowsthis child is here. It's all the result of this confounded storm and thewires being down. Such a blizzard as this hasn't struck Riveredge inthirty years."
It did not take Dr. Black as long to reach Mrs. Carruth's home as it hadtaken Jean to reach his, and when he arrived he found a distractedhousehold. Hadyn had rushed over to the Bee-hive to find Jean vanished,Mrs. Carruth entirely absorbed with Charles, who was in a very criticalcondition, and Mammy nearly beside herself. As Hadyn, in spite of Mrs.Carruth's protests, insisted upon going after Dr. Black, he wasconfronted by that gentleman at the very door.
Three Little Women's Success: A Story for Girls Page 12