Part 51 (1/2)

”Sam, go to the square,” he shouted.

”Can't lebe dese hosses. Dey's bofe lookin' ter me, an' I'se prayin' fer dem an us all.”

”No matter about the horses. The house is too near.” Then he ventured into the butler's pantry, cleansed his face and the cuts and bruises about his head, s.n.a.t.c.hed some food, and hastened away. He believed he had a hard night's work before him, and that he must maintain his strength. He had not gone very far down Meeting Street before he met the group accompanying Mrs. Hunter. With a glad cry he welcomed Mrs. Willoughby, and was about to take her hand when Clancy said, ”Houghton, for G.o.d's sake, quick!”

George caught the end of the litter while Clancy reeled backward and would have fallen had not Mara, with a cry she could not repress, caught him in her arms and sunk with him to the pavement. He gasped a moment or two, then his eyes closed; he became still and looked as if dead.

Again the supremely dreaded subterranean rumble was heard. Mr. Willoughby shouted wildly, ”Forward, quick! We can't stay here under these buildings.” He and Houghton went on with a rush, the rest following with loud cries, Miss Ainsley's piercing scream ringing out above all. She did not even look back at her prostrate suitor.

Mara paid no heed to the pa.s.sing shock, but with eyes full of anguish looked upon the white face in her lap.

”Mara,” said the deep voice of Bodine after the awful sound had pa.s.sed.

She started violently and began to tremble.

”Mara, go with the others. I will stay with Mr. Clancy.”

She shook her head, but was speechless.

He stood beside her, his face full of deep and perplexed trouble.

At last she said hoa.r.s.ely, ”You go and bring aid. He saved aunty and me, and I cannot leave him.”

At this moment Aun' Sheba came running back, exclaiming: ”Good Lawd forgib me dat I should leab my honey lam'! My narbes all shook out ob jint like de houses, an' my legs run away wid me, dog gone 'em! Dey's brung me back howsomeber. Now, Missy Mara, gib him ter me;” and taking him under the arms she dragged him by the adjacent tall buildings. ”Missy,” she added, sinking down with her burden, ”go on ter de squar wid Ma.r.s.e Bodine, an'

tell dat ar young Houghton ter come quick, 'fore my legs run away wid me agin.” ”Both of you go to the square,” commanded Bodine in the tone he would have used on the battlefield. ”I will stay. There shall be no useless risk of life.”

Mara lifted her dark eyes to his face. Even at that moment he knew he should never forget their expression. ”My friend,” she said in low, agonized tones, ”he may be dying, he may be dead. I cannot, will not leave him.”

”No, he ain't dead,” said Aun' Sheba, with her hand over Clancy's heart, ”but seems purty nigh it. Him jes gone beyon his strengt. Ole missus po'ful heby ef she ain't fat like me. Tank de Lawd, I hasn't ter be toted ter-night. No one but Kern ud tote me. Po' Kern! him heart jes break wen he know.”

Bodine stood guard silent and grim while Mara mechanically chafed one of Clancy's hands. She was now far beyond tears, far beyond anything except the anguish depicted in her face. In a confused way she felt that the terrible events of the night and her own heart had overpowered her; and, with a half-despairing recklessness, she merely lived from moment to moment.

The earthquake had ceased to have personal terrors for Bodine. He had faced death too often. Nevertheless a great fear oppressed him as he looked down upon the girl he loved.

The square was not far away; Houghton and Mr. Willoughby came hastening back, and Clancy was soon added to the group of sufferers under Dr.

Devoe's care.

To Miss Ainsley's general disgust at a city in which she had been treated to such a rude and miserable experience, was added a little self-disgust that she had rushed away and left Clancy to his fate. She tried to satisfy herself by thinking that he had acted in much the same way toward her, but it would not answer. Mrs. Hunter's blood-stained face, rendered tenfold more ghastly by the light of the flames, was too strong refutation, and the fact that Mara had remained with Clancy had its sting. She saw Ella and many others ministering to the injured and feeble, and felt that she must redeem her character. When the unconscious man was brought in, therefore, she hastened forward to receive and in a measure claim him.

Although mentally comparing her conduct with that of Mara, Houghton and Mr. Willoughby thought it was all right, put Clancy in her charge, and began to follow Dr. Devoe's directions. Mara gave the girl a look which brought a blush to her face, and then devoted herself to her aunt.

Captain Bodine's first act was to speak gently and encouragingly to his daughter and cousin, congratulating the latter on her recovery.

”Yes, Hugh,” said the old lady, ”I'm safe, safer than I've been at other times in my life. This is but one more storm, and it is only driving me nearer the harbor. You look dreadfully; you're worn out.”

”More by anxiety than exertion. It is awful to be so helpless at such a time.”

”Sit down here on the gra.s.s beside me. I want to talk. I may not have much more chance in this world, but feel sure that I shall do my share in the next. Oh, Hugh, Hugh, we've all been shaken like naughty children, and some of us may be the better and the wiser for it. If Ella and that gallant knight of hers survive, how happy they will be! It makes me happy even to think of it, though for aught we know the earth may open and swallow us all within the next five minutes.”

”Yes, the dear child! Thank G.o.d for her sake!”