"We were afraid you were hurt badly, and we thought--we thought you might
like to see Idella--and so--we came. She is in the next room."
"Thank you," said the minister. "I presume that I am dying; the doctor
tells me that I have but a few hours to live."
Mrs. Savor protested, "Oh, I guess you ain't a-goin' to die _this_
time, Mr. Peck." Annie looked from Dr. Morrell to Putney, who stood with
him on the other side of the bed, and experienced a shock from their
gravity without yet being able to accept the fact it implied. "There's
plenty of folks," continued Mrs. Savor, "hurt worse'n what you be that's
alive to-day and as well as ever they was."
Bolton seized his chance. "It's just what I said to Pauliny, comin' along.
'You'll see,' said I, 'Mr. Peck'll be out as spry as any of us before a
great while.' That's the way I felt about it from the start."
"All you got to do is to keep up courage," said Mrs. Savor.
"That's so; that's half the battle," said Bolton.
There were numbers of people in the room and at the door of the next. Annie
saw Colonel Marvin and Jack Wilmington. She heard afterward that he was
going to take the same train to Boston with Mr. Peck, and had helped to
bring him to the Savors' house. The stationmaster was there, and some other
railroad employes.
The doctor leaned across the bed and lifted slightly the arm that lay
there, taking the wrist between his thumb and finger. "I think we had
better let Mr. Peck rest a while," he said to the company generally, "We're
doing him no good."
The people began to go; some of them said, "Well, good night!" as if they
would meet again in the morning. They all made the pretence that it was a
slight matter, and treated the wounded man as if he were a child. He did
not humour the pretence, but said "Good-bye" in return for their "Good
night" with a quiet patience.
Mrs. Savor hastened after her retreating guests. "I ain't a-goin' to let
you go without a sup of coffee," she said. "I want you should all stay and
git some, and I don't believe but what a little of it would do Mr. Peck
good."
The surface of her lugubrious nature was broken up, and whatever was kindly
and cheerful in its depths floated to the top; she was almost gay in the
demand which the calamity made upon her. Annie knew that she must have seen
and helped to soothe the horror of mutilation which she could not even let
her fancy figure, and she followed her foolish bustle and chatter with
respectful awe.