Jane Cable

When the beautiful and mysterious nurse whose fame had gone up with the soldiers into Tilad Pass, arrived with others to take charge of the Red Cross hospital, on the day following the battle, she found the man she had been longing to see for many weary, heartsick months. She found him dying.

To the surprise of the enthralled command, she fell in a dead swoon when she looked upon the pallid face of Graydon Bansemer. She had gone eagerly from one pallet to another, coming upon his near the last. One glance was enough. His face had been in her mind for months--just as she was seeing it now; she had lived in the horror of finding him cold in death.

It was Teresa Velasquez who first understood. She knew that Bansemer's one woman had found him at last. Her heart leaped with hatred for one brief instant, then turned soft and contrite. If she had learned to care for the big American herself during the hard days when he had been so tender, she also had learned that her worship was hopeless. She had felt his yearning love for another; now she was looking upon that other. While the attendants were bending over their unconscious companion, the Spanish girl stood guard over the man who had been her guardian, the man whose life was going out before her miserable, exhausted eyes.

Jane Cable stirred with returning life; Teresa was quick to see that words not medicine would act as the restorative. She went swiftly to the American girl's side and, clasping her hands, cried sharply into her half conscious ears: "He is not dead! He is alive! He needs you!"

The effect was magical. Life leaped into Jane's eyes, vigour into her body. She recovered from the swoon as mysteriously as she had succumbed to it. Her sudden breakdown had puzzled her companions. It is true that she was new in the service; she had seen but little of death and suffering; but, with all that, she was known to possess remarkable strength of purpose and fortitude. That she should collapse almost at the outset of her opportunities was the source of wonder and no little contempt among her fellow workers. The words of the strange girl in men's clothing opened the way to smart surmises. It was not long before everyone in the command knew that the "beautiful Red Cross nurse" was not wearing the garb of the vocation for the sake of humanity alone--in fact, it was soon understood that she did not care a straw for the rest of mankind so long as Graydon Bansemer needed her ministrations.