we two-第36部分

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hand　all　the　appliances　most　likely　to　be　needed。　　Just　as　all　was　done；　and　she　was　beginning　to　feel　that　a　minute's　pause　would　be　the　〃last　straw；〃　Tom　heard　the　sound　of　wheels　in　the　square；　and　hurried　out。　　Erica　stood　in　the　doorway　watching；　and　presently　saw　a　small　crowd　of　helpers　bearing　a　deathly　looking　burden。　　Whiteness　of　death　redness　of　blood。　　The　ground　seemed　rocking　beneath　her　feet；　when　a　strong　hand　took　hers　and　drew　her　into　the　house。

〃Don't　be　afraid；〃　said　a　voice；　which　she　knew　to　be　Brian's　though　a　black　mist　would　not　let　her　see　him。　　〃He　was　conscious　a　minute　ago；　this　is　only　from　the　pain　of　moving。　　Which　room？〃

〃The　study；〃　she　replied；　recovering　herself。　　〃Give　me　something　to　do；　Brian；　quickly。〃

He　saw　that　in　doing　lay　her　safety；　and　kept　her　fully　employed；　so　much　so；　indeed；　that　from　sheer　lack　of　time　she　was　able　to　stave　off　the　faintness　which　had　threatened　to　overpower　her。　　After　a　time　her　father　came　to　himself；　and　Erica's　face；　which　had　been　the　last　in　his　mind　in　full　consciousness；　was　the　first　which　now　presented　itself　to　his　awakening　gaze。　　He　smiled。

〃Well；　Erica！　　So；　after　all；　they　haven't　quite　done　for　me。　　Nine　lives　like　a　cat；　as　I　always　told　you。〃

His　voice　was　faint；　but　with　all　his　wonted　energy　he　raised　himself　before　they　could　remonstrate。　　He　was　far　more　injured；　however；　than　he　knew；　with　a　stifled　groan　he　fell　back　once　more　in　a　swoon；　and　it　was　many　hours　before　they　were　able　to　restore　him。

After　that；　fever　set　in；　and　a　shadow　as　of　death　fell　on　the　house　in　Guilford　Terrace。　　Doctors　came　and　went；　Brian　almost　lived　with　his　patient；　friends　Raeburn　had　hosts　of　them　came　with　help　of　every　description。　　The　gloomy　little　alley　admitted　every　day　crowds　of　inquirers；　who　came　to　the　door；　read　the　bulletin；　glanced　up　at　the　windows；　and　went　away　looking　graver　than　when　they　came。

Erica　lost　count　of　time　altogether。　　The　past　seemed　blotted　out；　the　weight　of　the　present　was　so　great　that　she　would　not　admit　any　thought　of　the　future；　though　conscious　always　of　a　blank　dread　which　she　dared　not　pause　to　analyze；　sufficient　indeed　for　her　day　was　the　evil　thereof。　　She　struggled　on　somehow　with　a　sort　of　despairing　strength；　only　once　or　twice　did　she　even　recollect　the　outside　world。

It　happened　that　on　the　first　Wednesday　after　the　Hyde　Park　meeting　some　one　mentioned　the　day　of　the　week　in　her　hearing。　　She　was　in　the　sick…room　at　the　time；　but　at　once　remembered　that　her　week's　work　was　untouched；　that　she　had　not　written　a　line　for　the　〃Idol…Breaker。〃　　Every　idea　seemed　to　have　gone　out　of　her　head；　for　a　minute　she　felt　that　to　save　her　life　she　could　not　write　a　line。　　But　still　she　conscientiously　struggled　to　remember　what　subject　had　been　allotted　her；　and　in　the　temporary　stillness　of　the　first　night…watch　drew　writing　materials　toward　her；　and　leaned　her　head　on　her　hands　until；　almost　by　an　effort　of　will；　she　at　length　recalled　the　theme　for　her　article。

Of　course！　　It　was　to　be　that　disgraceful　disturbance　in　the　church　at　Z______。　　She　remembered　the　whole　affair　now；　it　all　rose　up　before　her　graphically　not　a　bad　subject　at　all！　　Their　party　might　make　a　good　deal　by　it。　　Her　article　must　be　bright；　descriptive；　sarcastic。　　Yet　how　was　she　to　write　such　an　article　when　her　heart　felt　like　lead？　　An　involuntary　〃I　can't　〃　rose　to　her　lips；　and　she　glanced　at　her　father's　motionless　form；　her　eyes　filling　with　tears。　　Then　one　of　his　sayings　came　to　her　mind：　〃No　such　word　as　'Can't'　in　the　dictionary；〃　and　began　to　write　rapidly　almost　defiantly。　　No　sooner　had　she　begun　than　her　very　exhaustion；　the　lateness　of　the　hour；　and　the　stress　of　circumstance　came　to　her　aid　she　had　never　before　written　so　brilliantly。

The　humor　of　the　scene　struck　her；　little　flashes　of　mirth　at　the　expense　of　both　priest　and　people；　delicate　sarcasms；　the　more　searching　from　their　very　refinement；　awoke　in　her　brain　and　were　swiftly　transcribed。　　In　the　middle　of　one　of　the　most　daring　sentences　Raeburn　stirred。　　Erica's　pen　was　thrown　down　at　once；　she　was　at　his　side　absorbed　once　more　in　attending　to　his　wants；　forgetful　quite　of　religious　controversy；　of　the〃Idol…Breaker；〃　of　anything　in　fact　in　the　whole　world　but　her　father。　　Not　till　an　hour　had　passed　was　she　free　to　finish　her　writing；　but　by　the　time　her　aunt　came　to　relieve　guard　at　two　o'clock　the　article　was　finished　and　Erica　stole　noiselessly　into　the　next　room　to　put　it　up。

To　her　surprise　she　found　that　Tom　had　not　gone　to　bed。　　He　was　still　toiling　away　at　his　desk　with　a　towel　round　his　head；　she　could　almost　have　smiled　at　the　ludicrous　mixture　of　grief　and　sleepiness　on　his　face；　had　not　her　own　heart　been　so　loaded　with　care　and　sadness。　　The　post　brought　in　what　Tom　described　as　〃bushels〃　of　letters　every　day；　and　he　was　working　away　at　them　now　with　sleepy　heroism。

〃How　tired　you　look；〃　said　Erica。　　〃See！　　I　have　brought　in　this　for　the　'Idol。'〃

〃You've　been　writing　it　now！　　That　is　good　of　you。　　I　was　afraid　we　should　have　to　make　up　with　some　wretched　padding　of　Blank's。〃

He　took　the　sheets　from　her　and　began　to　read。　Laughter　is　often　only　one　remove　from　grief；　and　Tom；　though　he　was　sad…hearted　enough；　could　not　keep　his　countenance　through　Erica's　article。　　First　his　shoulders　began　to　shake；　then　he　burst　into　such　a　paroxysm　of　noiseless　laughter　that　Erica；　fearing　that　he　could　not　restrain　himself；　and　would　be　heard　in　the　sick…room；　pulled　the　towel　from　his　forehead　over　his　mouth；　then；　conquered　herself　by　the　absurdity　of　his　appearance；　she　was　obliged　to　bury　her　own　face　in　her　hands；　laughing　more　and　more　whenever　the　incongruousness　of　the　laughter　occurred　to　her。　　When　they　had　exhausted　themselves　the　profound　depression　which　had　been　the　real　cause　of　the　violent　reaction　returned　with　double　force。　　Tom　sighed　heavily　and　finished　reading　the　article　with　the　gravest　of　faces。　　He　was　astonished　that　Erica　could　have　written　at　such　a　time　an　article　positively　scintillating　with　mirth。

〃How　did　you　manage　anything　so　witty　tonight　of　all　nights？〃　he　asked。

〃Don't　you　remember　Hans　Andersen's　clown　Punchinello；〃　said　Erica。　　〃He　never　laughed　and　joked　so　gayly　as　the　night　when　his　love　died　and　his　own　heart　was　broken。〃

There　was　a　look　in　her　eyes　which　made　Tom　reply；　quickly：　〃Don't　write　any　more　just　now；　the　professor　has　promised　us　something　for　next　week。　　Don't　write　any　more　till　till　the　chieftain　is　well。〃

After　that　she　wished　him　good　night　rather　hastily；　crept　upstairs　to　her　attic；　and　threw　herself　down　on　her　bed。　　Why　had　he　spoken　of　the　future？　　Why　had　his　voice　hesitated？　　No；　she　would　not　think；　she　would　not。

So　the　article　appeared　in　that　week's　〃Idol…Breaker；　and　thousands　and　thousands　of　people　laughed　over　it。　　It　even　excited　displeased　comment　from　〃the　other　side；〃　and　in　many　ways　did　a　great　deal　of　what　in　Guilford　Terrace　was　considered　〃good　work。〃　　For　Erica　herself；　it　was　long　before　she　had　time　to　give　it　another　thought；　it　was　to　her　only　a　desperately　hard　duty　which　she　had　succeeded　in　doing。　　Nobody　every　guessed　how　much　it　had　cost　her。

The　weary　time　dragged　on；　days　and　weeks　passed　by；　Raeburn　was　growing　weaker；　but　clung　to　life　with　extraordinary　tenacity。　　And　now　very　bitterly　they　felt　the　evils　of　this　voluntarily　embraced　poverty；　for　the　summer　heat　was　for　a　few　days　almost　tropical；　and　the　tiny　little　rooms　in　the　lodging…house　were　stifling。　　Brian　was　very　anxious　to　have　the　patient　moved　across　to　his　father's　house；　but；　though　Charles　Osmond　said　all　he　could　in　favor　of　the　scheme；　the　other　doctors　would　not　consent；　thinking　the　risk　of　removal　too　great。　　And；　besides；　it　would　be　useless；　they　maintained　the　atheist　was　evidently　dying。　　Brian；　who　was　the　youngest；　could　not　carry　out　his　wishes　in　defiance　of　the　others；　but　he　would　not　deny　himself　the　hope　of　even　yet　saving　Erica's　father。　　He　devised　punkahs；　became　almost　nurse　and　doctor　in　one；　and　utterly　refused　to　lose　heart。　　Erica　herself　was　the　only　other　person　who　shared　his　hopefulness；　or　perhaps　her　feeling　could　hardly　be　described　by　that　word；　she　was　not　hopeful；　but　she　had　so　resolutely　set　herself　to　live　in　the　present　that　she　had　managed　altogether　to　crowd　out　the　future；　and　with　it　the　worst　fear。

One　day；　however；　it　broke　upon　her　suddenly。　　Some　one　had　left　a　newspaper　in　the　sick…room；　it　was　weeks　since　she　had　seen　one；　and　in　a　brief　interval；　while　her　father　slept；　or　seemed　to　sleep；　she　took　it　up　half　mechanically。　　How　much　it　would　have　interested　her　a　little　while　ago；　how　meaningless　it　all　seemed　to　her　now。　〃Latest　Telegrams；〃　　〃News　from　the　Seat　of　War；〃　〃Parliamentary　Intelligence〃　a　speech　by　Sir　Michael　Cunningham；　one　of　her　heroes；　on　a　question　in　which　she　was　interested。　　She　could　not　read　it；　all　the　life　seemed　gone　out　of　it；　today　the　paper　was　nothing　to　her　but　a　broad　sheet　with　so　many　columns　of　printed　matter。　　But　as　she　was　putting　it　down　their　own　name　caught　her　eye。　　All　at　once　her　benumbed　faculties　regained　their　power；　her　heart　began　to　beat　wildly；　for