THE GIRL ON NO.1.
By the time they had reached the hotel Cameron was glad enough to go to his bed.
"You need not tell your wife, I suppose," said the doctor.
"Tell her? Certainly!" said Cameron."She is with me in this.Iplay fair with her.Don't you fear, she is up to it."And so she was, and, though her face grew white as she listened to the tale, never for a moment did her courage falter.
"Doctor, is Allan all right? Tell me," she said, her big blue eyes holding his in a steady gaze.
"Right enough, but he must have a long sleep.You must not let him stir at five.""Then," said Mandy, "I shall go to meet the train, Allan.""But you don't know Moira."
"No, but I shall find her out."
"Of course," said Dr.Martin in a deprecating tone, "I know Miss Cameron, but--""Of course you do," cried Mandy."Why, that is splendid! You will go and Allan need not be disturbed.She will understand.Not a word, now, Allan.We will look after this, the doctor and I, eh, Doctor?""Why--eh--yes--yes certainly, of course.Why not?""Why not, indeed?" echoed Mandy briskly."She will understand."And thus it was arranged.Under the influence of a powder left by Dr.Martin, Cameron, after an hour's tossing, fell into a heavy sleep.
"I am so glad you are here," said Mandy to the doctor, as he looked in upon her."You are sure there is no injury?""No, nothing serious.Shock, that's all.A day's quiet will fix him up.""I am so thankful," said Mandy, heaving a deep sigh of relief, "and I am so glad that you are here.And it is so nice that you know Moira.""You are not going to the train?" said the doctor.
"No, no, there is no need, and I don't like to leave him.Besides you don't need me.""N-o-o, no, not at all--certainly not," said the doctor with growing confidence."Good-night.I shall show her to her room.""Oh," cried Mandy, "I shall meet you when you come.Thank you so much.So glad you are here," she added with a tremulous smile.
The doctor passed down the stairs.
"By Jove, she's a brick!" he said to himself."She has about all she can stand just now.Glad I am here, eh? Well, I guess I am too.But what about this thing? It's up to me now to do the Wild West welcome act, and I'm scared--plain scared to death.She won't know me from a goat.Let's see.I've got two hours yet to work up my ginger.I'll have a pipe to start with."He passed into the bar, where, finding himself alone, he curled up in a big leather chair and gave himself up to his pipe and his dreams.The dingy bar-room gave place to a little sunny glen in the Highlands of Scotland, in which nestled a little cluster of stone-built cottages, moss-grown and rose-covered.Far down in the bottom of the Glen a tiny loch gleamed like a jewel.Up on the hillside above the valley an avenue of ragged pines led to a large manor house, old, quaint, but dignified, and in the doorway a maiden stood, grave of face and wonderfully sweet, in whose brown eyes and over whose brown curls all the glory of the little Glen of the Cup of Gold seemed to gather.Through many pipes he pursued his dreams, but always they led him to that old doorway and the maiden with the grave sweet face and the hair and eyes full of the golden sunlight of the Glen Cuagh Oir.
"Oh, pshaw!" he grumbled to himself at last, knocking the ashes from his pipe."She has forgotten me.It was only one single day.
But what a day!"
He lit a fresh pipe and began anew to dream of that wonderful day, that day which was the one unfading point of light in all his Old Country stay.Not even the day when he stood to receive his parchment and the special commendation of the Senatus and of his own professor for his excellent work lived with him like that day in the Glen.Every detail of the picture he could recall and ever in the foreground the maiden.With deliberate purpose he settled himself in his chair and set himself to fill in those fine and delicate touches that were necessary to make perfect the foreground of his picture, the pale olive face with its bewildering frame of golden waves and curls, the clear brown eyes, now soft and tender, now flashing with wrath, and the voice with its soft Highland cadence.
"By Jove, I'm dotty! Clean dotty! I'll make an ass of myself, sure thing, when I see her to-day." He sprang from his chair and shook himself together."Besides, she has forgotten all about me."He looked at his watch.It was twenty minutes to train-time.He opened the door and looked out.The chill morning air struck him sharply in the face.He turned quickly, snatched his overcoat from a nail in the hall and put it on.
At this point Billy, who combined in his own person the offices of ostler, porter and clerk, appeared, his lantern shining with a dim yellow glare in the gray light of the dawn.
"No.1 is about due, Doc," he said.
"She is, eh? I say, Billy," said the Doctor, "want to do something for me?" He pushed a dollar at Billy over the counter.
"Name it, Doc, without further insult," replied Billy, shoving the dollar back with a lordly scorn.
"All right, Billy, you're a white little soul.Now listen.I want your ladies' parlor aired.""Aired?" gasped Billy.
"Yes, open the windows.Put on a fire.I have a lady coming--Ihave--that is--Sergeant Cameron's sister is coming--""Say no more," said Billy with a wink."I get you, Doc.But what about the open window, Doc? It's rather cold.""Open it up and put on a fire.Those Old Country people are mad about fresh air.""All right, Doc," replied Billy with another knowing wink."The best is none too good for her, eh?""Look here, now, Billy--" the doctor's tone grew severe--"let's have no nonsense.This is Sergeant Cameron's sister.He is knocked out, unable to meet her.I am taking his place.Do you get me? Now be quick.If you have any think juice in that block of yours turn it on."Billy twisted one ear as if turning a cock, and tapped his forehead with his knuckles.
