A Century Too Soon Part 26

"No; we will seek some suitable spot for pa.s.sing the night further down the mountain."

The mountain top was covered with snow, and they went down a mile or more before they found the ground free from snow, slush, ice or water.

Here, on a mantle made of goat-skins, John induced the s.h.i.+vering Blanche to lie down, while he gathered some stunted brush, small pines and dead gra.s.s and built a fire to keep her warm. During the night the sky became obscured, and a cold rain fell. Their condition was miserable enough, for they were soaked to the skin and s.h.i.+vering. There was no shelter near enough for them to reach it, and it was too dark to travel.

"I am freezing," said Blanche, through her chattering teeth. John tried to m.u.f.fle her in the robe of goat-skin; but it was wet and worse than no covering. His soaked garments were placed about her; but she still shook with cold, until he became alarmed and held her in his arms, endeavoring to instill some warmth in her from his own body.

All things must have an end, and so did that dreary night. Day dawned at last, and the rising sun chased away the clouds, and they saw, far, far below them, the low, green valley which they called home. The morning air was chill and piercing, and John began to fear for Blanche; but she a.s.sured him that soon they would reach lower land and warmer temperature. They did not wait for breakfast, but hurried down the mountain just as soon as it was light enough to see. She was weak, and he offered to carry her in his strong arms.

"No, no; I can walk," she said.

"But you are so chilled and so weak."

"Exercise will warm me and give me strength," she answered. It did, and when they reached the valley she was quite herself again. It was the middle of the afternoon when they entered the valley, and gazing back at old Snow-Top, with his towering summit piercing the skies, they thanked G.o.d for their deliverance. About the snowy peak there clung a rift of vapor, as if some pa.s.sing cloud had caught upon it and torn off a fragment.

"I don't care to venture up there again," said John.

"Nor do I," sighed his companion. "So peaceful, so sweet and so dear is our little home, that I am almost content with it."

"I am, likewise."

For two or three days no evil effects were perceivable from their journey save a weariness on the part of Blanche, which John flattered himself would pa.s.s away. He sat with her and talked more than had been his custom. She seemed to grow better in his eyes, for he had seen how uncomplaining she was, and how she n.o.bly struggled to make his burden lighter. She spoke encouraging words of Virginia, told him of his wife and children, who had been described so often to her that she had a faithful picture of them in her mind. She would say:

"Your little Rebecca is now sixteen years of age, quite a young lady.

She is beautiful, too. I know she is beautiful, for she has the dark eyes and hair of her mother."

"Blanche, beauty is not confined to black eyes and hair alone," said John.

She went on:

"And your little boy is a man now, twenty years of age, and he is no doubt strong, brave, gallant and n.o.ble. Surely you must be proud of such a son. Your wife has grown more wise with her distress, and she still looks to the ocean for the return of one for whom she will wait until the angel of death summons her to meet him in Heaven."

"Blanche, Blanche, how strangely you talk!"

"I fancy I can see them, and they are happy in their little home. The son supports his mother. Oh, they are happy!"

"Blanche, Blanche, your cheeks are flushed, your eyes are unnaturally bright; you have a fever."

She laughingly answered:

"It is only a slight cold, the result of our visit to the peak of old Snow-Top."

He administered such simple remedies as they had at hand, tucked her up warmly in bed and sat by her side until she was asleep. Then he made a bed on the floor in the adjoining room, where he might be within call, and lay down to sleep. Being wearied with the toils of the day, he was soon asleep, and it was after midnight when he was awakened by a cough from Blanche's bed. It was followed by an exclamation of pain.

In a moment he was at her side.

"What is the matter, Blanche?" he asked, uneasily.

"I have a pain in my side."

He stooped over her, put his hand on her face and was startled to find it so dry and hot. Groping about he found a rude lamp, which he had fas.h.i.+oned from an old pewter pot brought from the wreck. Within the lamp was a wick made from the lint of wild hemp, fed with goat's fat. Seizing his flint and steel he kindled a light and found Blanche in a raging fever.

"Blanche, Blanche, you are ill!" said John.

"I am so hot, I burn with thirst," she answered.

"You shall have water." There was a spring of clear, cold water flowing down from the mountain, and John took an earthen jar, and ran to fill it.

"It is so good of you," the sick woman sighed, as he moistened her fevered lips.

John Stevens was now very anxious about her, for she was growing rapidly worse. He knew a little about medicine and had brought some remedies from the s.h.i.+p; but the disease which had fastened itself on Blanche defied his skill. She was at times seized with a fit of coughing which almost took away her breath. When he had exhausted all his efforts, she said sweetly:

"You can do no more."

"Blanche, Blanche," he almost sobbed, "Heaven knows I would give my life to spare you one pang."

"I know it," she answered.

"What will you have me do?"

"Sit by my side."

He brought a stool and sat by her bedside.

"Hold my hand, I have such frightful dreams, and I want you near."

He took the little fevered hand in his own and for hours sat by her side.

Morning came and went, came and went again, and she grew worse.

John never left her save to bring cold water to slake her burning thirst, or prepare some remedy to check the ravages of the fever.

"Oh, G.o.d! to be left alone--to be left all alone! Can I endure it?" he sighed. When he was at her side, he said:

"It was the journey to Snow-Top. It was too much for you, Blanche, I am to blame for this."

"No, no, blame not yourself. I it was who insisted on going."

She rapidly grew worse, and John Stevens saw that she must die.

Occasionally she fell asleep, and then he thought how beautiful she was.

Once she murmured his name and sweetly smiled. She awoke and was very weak. Raising her eyes, she saw him at her side, and with that same happy smile on her face, she said:

"Oh, I had such a delightful dream. It may be wicked; but it was delightful. I dreamed that I was she."

"Who?"

"Your wife--"

"Blanche!"