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Emil had been there when they carried him out of the field, and had stayed with him until the doctors operated for appendicitis at five o'clock. They were afraid it was too late to do much good; it should have been done three days ago. Amedee was in a very bad way. Emil had just come home, worn out and sick himself. She had given him some brandy and put him to bed. Marie hung up the receiver.
The blood came back to her cheeks, her amber eyes opened slowly, and in them Emil saw his own face and the orchard and the sun. "I was dreaming this," she whispered, hiding her face against him, "don't take my dream away!" When Frank Shabata got home that night, he found Emil's mare in his stable. Such an impertinence amazed him. Like everybody else, Frank had had an exciting day.
By and by the longed-for letters came, and all the story of the wreck was told; briefly by Emil, eloquently by Mrs Hardy, gratefully by the captain, while Mary added a few tender words that went straight to their hearts and seemed the sweetest of all.
And as he was pouring out a glass of wine for her and she seized his hand to stop him, she felt a comforting glow steal up her arm as far as her shoulder. It made her feel happy. It seemed to her that she was being unfaithful to Emil.
"You must promise me that you'll write to me in a year," said Peter, who had finished his apprenticeship at the same time. "That I will!" said Emil. But before a month had passed they heard that Emil was home again. He was ashamed to let himself be seen. And then one morning he came, much embarrassed, slinking into the workshop.
She shook herself violently, so that she almost pushed Emil away and then she tore her eyes wide open. Emil gazed at her, smiling. "Do you love me?" he asked.
She was glad, Emil Lindbach had obtained the Order of the Redeemer.... Yes ... the man whose letters she had been reading that very day ... the man who had kissed her the man who had once written to her that he would never adore any other woman.... Yes, Emil the only man in all the world in whom she really had still any interest except her boy, of course.
She had waited a long time before I came back. And I told her it was a half-holiday to-morrow, the three-days' holiday coming on" "Would you know her again?" anxiously demanded Clayton. "Certainly," murmured the sordid liar, speaking the truth for once. "Describe her," hastily ordered the excited man. And Master Emil Einstein gave a not too glowing description of the charms of his own mother.
The death of Professor Bradlough took from him the one friend he was ever to know, and the death of Ann Bartell left him penniless. Hating the unfortunate lad to the last, she cut him off with one hundred dollars. The following year, at twenty years of age, Emil Gluck was enrolled as an instructor of chemistry in the University of California.
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