CHAPTER XXI
THE RETURN
What happened after the passing of her vision Dinah never fully knew, soslack had become her grip upon material things. Her spirit seemed to bewandering aimlessly about the mountain-side while her body lay in icychains within that miserable shelter. Of Isabel's presence she was nolonger even dimly aware, and she knew neither fear nor pain, only a widedesolation of emptiness that encompassed her as atmosphere encompassesthe world.
Sometimes she fancied that the sound of voices came muffled through thefog that hung impenetrably upon the great slope. And when this fancycaught her, her spirit drifted back very swiftly to the nearneighbourhood of that inert and frozen body that lay so helpless in thedark. For that strange freedom of the spirit seemed to her to be highlydangerous and in a fashion wrong. It would be a terrible thing if theyfound and buried the body, and the spirit were left alone to wander forever homeless on that desolate mountain-side. She could not imagine afate more awful.
At the same time, being free from the body, she knew no physical pain,and she shrank from returning before she need, knowing well the anguishof suffering that awaited her. The desolation and loneliness made herunhappy in a vague and not very comprehensible fashion, but she did notsuffer actively. That would come later when return became imperative.Till then she flitted to and fro, intangible as gossamer, elusive as thesnow. She wondered what Apollo would say if he could see her thus. Evenhe would fail to catch her now. She pictured the strong arms closing uponher, and clasping--emptiness. That thought made her a little cold, andsent her floating back to make sure that the lifeless body was stillthere.
And as she went, drifting through the silence, there came to her thethought that Scott would be unutterably shocked if they brought her backto him dead. It was strange how the memory of him haunted her that night.It almost seemed as if his spirit were out there in the great waste,seeking hers.
She reached the shelter and entered, borne upon snowflakes. Yes, the bodywas still there. She hovered over it like a bird over its nest. ForScott's sake, should she not return?
And then very suddenly there came a great sound close to her--the loudbarking of a dog;--and in a second--in less--she had returned.
A long, long shiver went through the poor frozen thing that was herself,and she knew that she moaned as one awaking....
Vaguely, through dulled senses, she heard the great barking yet again,and something immense that was furry and soft brushed against her. Sheheard the panting of a large animal close to her in the hut, and veryfeebly she put out a hand.
She did not like that loud baying. It went through and through her brain.She was not frightened, only dreadfully tired. And now that she was backagain in the body, she longed unspeakably to sleep.
But the noise continued, a perfect clamour of sound; and soon there cameother sounds, the shouting of men, the muffled tread of feet sorelyhampered by snow. A dim light began to shine, and gradually increasedtill it became a single, piercing eye that swept searchingly around thewretched shelter. An arc of fog surrounded it, obscuring all besides.
Dinah gazed wide-eyed at that dazzling arc, wondering numbly, whence itcame. It drew nearer to her. Its brightness became intolerable. She triedto shut her eyes, but the lids felt too stiff to move. Again, morefeebly, she moved her hand. It would be terrible if they thought herdead, especially after all the trouble she had taken to return.
And then very suddenly the deadly lethargy passed from her. All hernerves were pricked into activity. For someone--someone--was kneelingbeside her. She felt herself gathered into strong arms.
"Quick, Wetherby! The brandy!" Ah, well she knew those brief, peremptorytones! "My God! We're only just in time!"
Fast pressed against a man's heart, a faint warmth went through her. Sheknew an instant of perfect serenity; but the next she uttered a piteouscry of pain. For fire--liquid, agonizing--was on her bloodless lips andin her mouth. It burned its ruthless way down her throat, setting herwhole body tingling, waking afresh in her the power to suffer.
She turned, weakly gasping, and hid her face upon the breast thatsupported her.
Instantly she felt herself clasped more closely. "It's all right, littledarling, all right!" he whispered to her with an almost fiercetenderness. "Take it like a good child! It'll pull you through."
With steady insistence he turned her face back again, chafing her icycheek hard. And in a moment or two another burning dose was on its way.
It made her choke and gurgle, but it did its work. The frozen heart inher began to beat again with great jerks and bounds, sending quiveringshocks throughout her body.
She tried to speak to him, to whisper his name; but she could only gaspand gasp against his breast, and presently from very weakness she beganto cry.
He gathered her closer still, murmuring fond words, while he rubbed herface and hands, imparting the warmth of his own body to hers. Hispresence was like a fiery essence encompassing her. Lying there againsthis heart, she felt the tide of life turn in her veins and steadily flowagain. Like a child, she clung to him, and after a while, with an impulsesublimely natural, she lifted her lips to his.
He pressed his lips upon them closely, lingeringly. "Better now,sweetheart?" he whispered.
And she, clinging to him, found voice to answer, "Nothing matters now youhave come."
The consciousness of his protecting care filled her with a rapture almosttoo great to be borne. She throbbed in his arms, pressing closer, evercloser. And the grim Shadow of Death receded from the threshold. She knewthat she was safe.
It was soon after this that the thought of Isabel came to her, andtremulously she begged him to go to her. But he would not suffer her outof his arms.
"The others can see to her," he said. "You are my care."
She thrilled at the words, but she would not be satisfied. "She has beenso good to me," she told him pleadingly "See, I am wearing her coat."
"But for her you would never have come to this," he made brief reply, andshe thought his words were stern.
Then, as she would not be pacified, he lifted her like a child and heldher so that she could look down upon Isabel, lying inert and senselessagainst the doctor's knee.
"Oh, is she dead?" whispered Dinah, awe-struck.
"I don't know," he made answer, and by the tightening of his arms sheknew that her safety meant more to him at the moment than that of Isabelor anyone else in the world.
But in a second or two she heard Isabel moan, and was reassured.
"She is coming round," the doctor said. "She is not so far gone as theother lassie."
Dinah wondered hazily what he could mean, wondered if by any chance hesuspected that long and dreary wandering of her spirit up and down themountain-side. She nestled her head down against Eustace's shoulder witha feeling of unutterable thankfulness that she had returned in time.
Her impressions after that were of a very dim and shadowy description.She supposed the brandy had made her sleepy. Very soon she drifted offinto a state of semi-consciousness in which she realized nothing but thestrong holding of his arms. She even vaguely wondered after a timewhether this also were not a dream, for other fantasies began to crowdabout her. She rocked on a sea of strange happenings on which she foundit impossible to focus her mind. It seemed to have broken adrift as itwere--a rudderless boat in a gale. But still that sense of security neverwholly left her. Dreaming or waking, the force of his personalityremained with her.
It must have been hours later, she reflected afterwards, that she heardthe Colonel's voice exclaim hoarsely over her head, "In heaven's name,say she isn't dead!"
And, "Of course she isn't," came Eustace's curt response. "Should I becarrying her if she were?"
She tried to open her eyes, but could not. They seemed to be weighteddown. But she did very feebly close her numbed hands about Eustace'scoat. Emphatically she did not want to be handed over like a bale ofgoods to the Colonel.
He clasped her to him reassuringly, and presentl
y she knew that he boreher upstairs, holding her comfortably close all the way.
"Don't go away from me!" she begged him weakly.
"Not so long as you want me, little sweetheart," he made answer. But herwoman's heart told her that a parting was imminent notwithstanding.
In all her life she had never had so much attention before. She seemed tohave entered upon a new and amazing phase of existence. Colonel de Vignefaded completely into the background, and she found herself in the careof Biddy and the doctor. Eustace left her with a low promise to return,and she had to be satisfied with that thought, though she would fain haveclung to him still.
They undressed her and put her into a hot bath that did much to lessenthe numb constriction of her limbs, though it brought also the mostagonizing pain she had ever known. When it was over, the limit of herendurance was long past; and she lay in hot blankets weeping helplesslywhile Biddy tried in vain to persuade her to drink some scalding mixturethat she swore would make her feel as gay as a lark.
In the midst of this, someone entered quietly and stood beside her; andall in a moment there came to Dinah the consciousness of an unknown forcevery strangely uplifting her. She looked up with a quivering smile in themidst of her tears.
"Oh, Mr. Greatheart," she whispered brokenly, "is it you?"
He smiled down upon her, and took the cup from Biddy's shaky old hand.
"May I give you this?" he said.
Dinah was filled with gratified confusion. "Oh, please, you mustn'ttrouble! But--how very kind of you!"
He took Biddy's place by her side. His eyes were shining with an oddbrilliance, almost, she thought to herself wonderingly, as if they heldtears. A sharp misgiving went through her. How was it they were bestowingso much care upon her, unless Isabel--Isabel--
She did not dare to put her doubt into words, but he read it andinstantly answered it. "Don't be anxious!" he said in his kindly, tiredvoice. "All is well. Isabel is asleep--actually sleeping quietly withoutany draught. The doctor is quite satisfied about her."
He spoke the simple truth, she knew; he was incapable of doing anythingelse. A great wave of thankfulness went through her, obliterating theworst of her misery.
"I am so glad," she told him weakly. "I was--so dreadfully afraid. I--Ihad to go with her, Mr. Studley. I do hope everyone understands."
"Everyone does," he made answer gently. "Now let me give you this, andthen you must sleep too."
She drank from the cup he held, and felt revived.
He did not speak again till she had finished; then he leaned slightlytowards her, and spoke with great earnestness. "Miss Bathurst, do yourealize, I wonder, that you saved my sister's life by going with her? Ido; and I shall never forget it."
She was sure now that she caught the gleam of tears in the grey eyes. Sheslipped her hands out to him. "I only did what I could," she murmuredconfusedly. "Anyone would have done it. And please, Mr. Greatheart, willyou call me Dinah?"
"Or Mercy?" he suggested smiling, her hands clasped close in his.
She smiled back with shy confidence. The memory of her dream was in hermind, but she could not tell him of that.
"No," she said. "Just Dinah. I'm not nice enough to be called anythingelse. And thank you--thank you for being so good to me."
"My dear child," he made quiet reply, "no one who really knows you couldbe anything else."
"Oh, don't you think they could?" said Dinah wistfully. "I wish therewere more people in the world like you."
"No one ever thought of saying that to me before," said Scott.
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