"Heavens, no! We found the Indians dragging their dead from the road,
three miles back, and knew that something terrible had happened.
"Thank God! I am spared that! But he must not die--he shall not! I love
him. Do you hear? I love him!"
For three weeks the victim of that ill-fated trick hung between life
and death. Surgery was crude in the colonies, and the first evidence of
restoration was due more to his rugged constitution than to the skill
of his doctors. The poor fellow rolled and tossed upon one of Mrs.
Fortune's soft beds, oblivious to the kind offices of those about him.
They had taken him there at Kate's command, and she had worn herself to
a shadow with anguish, love and penitence. She watched him by day and
by night--in her restless dreams; her whole existence was in the
tossing victim of her folly. Every twitch of that pain-stricken body
seemed to show her that he was shrinking from her in hatred. Her pretty
face was white and drawn, the blue eyes dark and pitiful, the merry
mouth, plaintive in its hopelessness.
And those jovial tricksters--those who had jeered over his lack of
courage, the testing of which they had undertaken! They were smitten by
their own curses, haunted by their own shame. The fiery Trask, the
polished Farring, the ingenious Holmes, with all of Jamestown, prayed
for his recovery, and spared no pains to bring to life and health the
man who had won that which they had relinquished hope of having--Kate's
love. They were tender, sympathetic, helpful--true men and good.
Kate could not forget the look of disgust she had seen upon
Studdiford's face as he stood above her with the great sword in his
hand. His first thought had been to kill her!
Sitting beside him, bathing the fevered brow, caressing the rumpled
hair, holding his restless hands, she could feel her heart thumping
like lead, so heavy had it grown in the fear of his awakening.
Finally the doctors told her that he would recover, that the fever was
broken. Then came the day when he slept, cool and quiet, no trace of
fever, no sign of pain.
It was then that Kate forsook him, burying herself in her distant room,
guilty and heart-broken, fearing above all things on earth, the first
repellent glance he would bestow upon her. Once, while he slept, she
peered through his door, going back to her room and her spinning with
tears blinding the plaintive blue eyes.
At last, one day, her mother came from the Captain's room and said to
her gently:
"Kate, Captain Studdiford asks why you do not come to see him. He tells
me that for three days he has suffered because you have been so unkind.
Go to him, dear; he promises he will not plead his love if it is so
distasteful to you!"
Distasteful! The girl grew faint with wonder. Her limbs trembled, her
lips parted, her eyes blurred and her ears roared with the rush of
blood from her heart.
"Mother!" she whispered, at last, steadying herself against the wall.
"Are you sure, Mother?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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