But the surgeons at Johannesburg had shaken their heads.The delay, although unavoidable, had been full of danger.One only chance remained, and they would take that chance.Weldon had lingered until he was ordered away; then, with Ethel beside him, he had gone to find a doctor who could dress his own wounds and make him fit to face the ordeal which he knew was awaiting him.For one short moment, he had felt Ethel's hands busy about his shoulder and head and wrist, had rejoiced in the quiet strength of their soothing touch.For another moment, their eyes had met; but no word had been spoken between them.Then Alice had come to them, bringing the surgeon's verdict.That had been an hour before.Now they still were there, watching the slow approach of the inevitable summons.
Slowly the day waxed--and waned.For the waning life, there was no interval of waxing.Slowly, steadily, by infinitesimal degrees, Leo Frazer was sinking down into the Valley of the Shadow.Once the head surgeon had stepped behind the screens and bent over the bed.Only Ethel had seen the brief contraction of his brows; but no one of them was deceived by his cheery words of parting.And still the blue eyes rested upon Ethel, as if seeking to gain from her the answer to some unspoken question, as if begging her to share with him some fraction of her quiet strength.Now and then Ethel wondered at her own quiet.This was the second week of her promised month with her cousin; but it was the first time she had come face to face with death, the first time, too, that her work had taken on any hint of personality.Now, suddenly confronted with these three, Death and the two men who, during the past fourteen months, had played so active parts in her life, she was surprised to find that she faced them steadily and in silence.As yet, she felt no wish to make any moan.That would come later, when her nerves had relaxed a little from the stretching strain.And, meanwhile, as she sat watching the face on the pillow, grieving for the waning life, now and then she raised her eyes to the other face on the opposite side of the bed, and told herself that Fate, harsh as it was, was yet not altogether unpitying.Although wounded and worn and sick at heart, Weldon was with her, and intensely alive.
"Ethel!"
Bending forward, she laid her strong, firm hand upon the hand of the Captain, noting, as she did so, that the finger tips were cold to her own warm touch.
"Yes?" she said gently.
"You are here? It troubles me to see.Stay with me to the end, Ethel.It won't be so very long."She bowed her head; but the answer came firmly.
"I will stay."
There was a short silence.Then, gathering together all his strength, the Captain went on quite steadily,--"It won't be so very long, Ethel.I am sorry.I liked to live.Ihave had a good time, and I had no idea that my good times were so nearly over.Not that it would have made much difference, though.
And yet, when one comes to the end, all of a sudden, one finds a great many things that are left unfinished."She made no attempt to answer.
Gently he urged the final words upon her attention.
"There are always so many things left unfinished," he repeated.
"Yes," she said faintly.
Slowly, as if its weight dragged sorely upon his failing strength, he raised her hand to the pillow and rested his cheek upon it.
"Don't cry, Ethel," he said then."Of course, if I had lived, it might have meant so much to us both."Involuntarily she caught her breath and made a swift gesture, as if to withdraw her hand.Then, with a hasty glance at Weldon, leaning against the opposite wall, she controlled herself and allowed her hand to rest where it was.
