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The surgery was skilful but rude, for proper instruments were not at hand; and in a few hours he, whom we shall still call Sergeant Tom, lay quietly sleeping, the pallor gone from his face and the feeling of death from his hand. It was near midnight when he waked. Jen was sitting beside him. He looked round and saw her. Her face was touched with the light that shone from the Prairie Star.
"There are plenty of articles," Hsi Jen remarked, "for sending over things on ordinary occasions; and do you deliberately go and carry this off?" "Didn't I maintain the same thing?" Ch'ing Wen retorted. "But so well did this tray match with the fresh lichees it contained, that when I took it over, Miss T'an Ch'un herself noticed the fact.
You've had a long innings." "Not yet, Sergeant Tom, though I love the Irish, and your company would make me happy. But I am so innocent, and the world it cannot spare me yet. But I think you come to smile on virtue, all the same, Sergeant Tom. She is beautiful is Jen Galbraith. Ah, that makes your eye bright so! You Riders of the Plains, you do two things at one time.
"I'll change in all this," Pao-yue added by way of rejoinder; "I'll change in all this; and if there's anything more be quick and tell me." "There's nothing more," Hsi Jen observed; "but you must in everything exercise a little more diligence, and not indulge your caprices and allow your wishes to run riot, and you'll be all right.
She watched him sadly for a moment, and then, leaning over and touching him gently on the shoulder, said: "It's worse for you than it is for me, father. Don't feel so bad. Perhaps we shall save him yet." He caught a gleam of hope in her words: "Mebbe, Jen, mebbe!" and he raised his face to the light. This ritual of affection was crude and unadorned; but it was real.
Here was a little bed for Miss Irma, her washstand, a chest of drawers, a brush and comb which Aunt Jen had "found," producing them from under her apron with an exceedingly guilty air, while continuing to brush the floor with an air of protest against the whole proceeding. From the school-house my father sent a hanging bookcase at least the thing was done upon my suggestion.
Alf was beaten, and Jenny understood it. "Don't think about me," she whispered, in a quick pity. Alf still shook his head, reproachfully eyeing her with the old bull-like concern. "I'm not worth thinking about. I'm only a beast. And you say you can trust Emmy.... She's ever so ..." "Ah, but she can't make me mad like you do!" he said simply. "Jen, will you come another night ... Do!"
How you Riders of the Plains get waited on hand and foot!" Did some warning flash through Sergeant Tom's mind or body, some mental shock or some physical chill? For he distinctly shivered, though he was not cold. He seemed suddenly oppressed with a sense of danger. But his eyes fell on Jen, and the hesitation, for which he did not then try to account, passed.
We 'ad Molly and Jen with us, sir, the two girls on the tray service, an' 'e looks so insultin' at us that I up and sez: 'Wat you looking hat, you fat slug? beg pardon, sir, but that's 'ow I sez, sir. Then 'e don't say nothin' and I sez: 'Come out and I'll punch that puddin' 'ed. Then I hopens the gate an' goes in, but 'e don't say nothin', only looks insultin' like.
When they now overheard Hsi Jen making solicitous entreaties on her knees, they rushed into the apartment in a body; and with one consent they prostrated themselves on the floor. Pao-yue at once pulled Hsi Jen up. Then with a sigh, he took a seat on the bed. "Get up," he shouted to the body of girls, "and clear out! What would you have me do?" he asked, addressing himself to Hsi Jen.
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