Her Last Stake, Chapters I-V [pp. 815-839]

HER LAST STAKE.
He lifted it for them to pass, and they went on into the
sick-room.
A close, sickening odor-the peculiar effluvia of typhus-was
the first thing of which they became conscious on entering the
apartment. Then they found themselves standing beside the
bed whereon lay, tossing and muttering in fevered delirium, a
woman of some forty years old, whose thin hands wandered
feebly to and fro over the coverlet, while her dark hair, streaked
with gray, streamed in tangled masses over a soiled and tumbled pillow. A table beside the bed was crowded with medicine bottles, half-empty cups and glasses, and other paraphernalia
of a neglected sick-room; clothes and soiled linen lay upon
every chair, and a travelling trunk, dragged into the middle of
the room, stood half-open.
"If you will just glance round and see what you are likely
to want, I will order it as I go down," remarked the doctor.
"And I will look in again this evening-in fact, I think for
the future I shall pay my visits only after dark, as the proprietor objects to a doctor being seen too often about the place."
The nuns, after a hasty glance round, mentioned some probable wants: a spirit-lamp, cups, and so on, and then the doc.
tor and Sister Raphael turned to go.
" Good-by, dear sister," whispered the latter; "keep up your
heart, and send us news of you soon."
And then Sister Gabrielle found herself alone.
She began by opening the window for a moment, to let in
some of the pure fresh air which seemed so sadly needed in
that fetid sick chamber; and then, after one brief, refreshing
glance at the glories of sea and sky, mountain and olive-yards,
which were spread out before her as she closed the casement,
she proceeded to set in order the neglected apartment. The
tumbled bedclothes were smoothed, the pillow straightened, with
deft and gentle touch; soiled clothes and empty plates and
glasses cleared away, and a look of cleanliness and order diffused
over everything. By-and-by a knock came at the door, and a
tray was handed in to her with some dinner for herself and a
basin of very watery-looking beef-tea for the invalid, with an
inquiry as to whether anything further was required for the night.
"I am not allowed to go in," whispered the coquettish-looking
chambermaid, "but you can ring if you require anything."
Meanwhile the sick woman lay quietly on her narrow bed,
tossing her hot hands a little from side to side as though in
search of some cool spot whereon to rest them, and muttering
I894.]
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