“There,--that will do, Mr. MacFarlane,” interrupted the nurse. “Come, Miss Ruth, suppose you go to your room for a while.”
“You can come back as soon as I fix your father for the night.” She pointed significantly to the patient's head, whispering, “He must not get excited.”
“Yes, dear daddy--I will come back just as soon as I can get the dust out of my hair and get brushed up a little,” cried Ruth bravely, in the effort to hide her anxiety, “and then Aunt Felicia is downstairs.”
Once outside she drew the nurse, who had followed her, to the window so as to be out of hearing of the patient and then asked breathlessly:
“I don't know exactly, but everybody is talking about him.”
At this moment Miss Felicia arrived at the top of the stairs: she had heard Ruth's question and had caught the dazed expression on the girl's face.
“I will tell you, my dear, what he did, for I have heard every word of it from the servants. The blast went off before he and your father had reached the opening of the tunnel. They left your father for dead, then John Breen crawled back on his hands and knees through the dreadful smoke until he reached him, lifted him up on his shoulders and carried him out alive. That's what he did; and he is a big, fine, strong, noble fellow, and I am going to tell him so the moment I get my eyes on him. And that is not all. He got out of bed this afternoon, though he could hardly stand, and covered up all his bruises and his broken wrist so you couldn't see them, and then he limped down to the station so you would get the truth about your father and not be frightened. And now he is in a dead faint.”
Ruth's eyes flamed and the color left her cheeks. She stretched out both hands as if to keep from falling.
“Saved daddy!” she gasped--“Carried him out on--Oh! Aunt Felicia!--and I have been so mean! To think he got up out of bed and--and--” Everything swam before her eyes.
Miss Felicia sprang forward and caught her in her arms.
“Come!--none of this, Child. Pull yourself together right away. Get her some water, nurse,--she has stood all she can. There now, dearie--” Ruth's head was on her breast now. “There--there--Such a poor darling, and so many things coming all at once. There, darling, put your head on my shoulder and cry it all out.”