I hurried to my responsibility. Beside the bunk, looking down at the tiny mite, stood a coon in white linen. "Missus," he said, "de cap'n tole me to keep mah eye on dis li'l baby, an' not even let a fly walk 'cross dat chile's face. I wants yoh t' know, lady, dem's de bes' awdahs dis coon's had sence he lef' home. But I couldn't stop it cryin' jes' now." As I picked up Scrappie, whose great blue eyes shelter no shadow of the hell that came so near, I realized, with a wave of happiness overwhelming me, that I alone could quiet her. Late in the afternoon Herbert came with Miss Talbot and the Dodds and Christies. They accompanied us to the _Assouan_ in the launch. It was hard to say good-by to the women who had been nearest during the days of danger and suffering. Mother Christie held Scrappie to the last moment. Miss Talbot, my faithful nurse, who had stuck by me for seven weeks with unwavering devotion when there was so much larger and so much more tempting a field in nursing the wounded--what could I say to her? Jeanne Imer and Mary Rogers had been with me constantly. I expected to see them soon again in Europe. But Mrs. Dodds, who had taken me in and done for me as if I were one of her own family--was I just to say "Thank you!"? I said to Mrs. Dodds: "What can I ever do for you to--to--" She gently interrupted. "You don't know life, dear, if you think you can do anything for me. You will probably never see me again. If you ever meet a woman having a baby under difficult circumstances--just help her!"