But she didn't hear him; her face was white, and in her eyes was the
horror of a great fear, but from her lips came no cry; her silence was
more dreadful than if she had called out.
"We'll carry him, ma'am," Mike said, as she came down the steps to the
buggy, and clutching the wheel rim swayed unsteadily. "Jest git a bed
ready, Misses," Gaynor continued, softly; "git a bed ready, an' he'll be
all roight afther a bit. He's just stunned; that's all, just stunned!"
It was curious how the sense of evil had limited each one's vocabulary.
"Let me help," pleaded Mrs. Porter, speaking for the first time.
"We'll carry him, Misses--he's just stunned," repeated Mike, in a dreary
monotone, as feeling each step carefully with his toe he and Carter bore
the still senseless form into the house. The wife had got one of the
battered hands between her own, and was walking with wide, dry, staring
eyes close to her husband.
"O John, John! Speak to me. Open your eyes and look at me. You're not
dead; O God! you're not dead!" she cried, passionately, breaking down,
and a pent-up flood of tears coming to the hot, dry eyes as the two men
laid Porter on the bed that Cynthia had made ready.
"There, Misses, don't take on now," pleaded Mike.
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