Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-08-12
CHAPTER XIV.
Signals.

There were a good many days after
that--not days at all. really, but an in
terminable period Of night-which were
broken for Jeanne by no ray of hope
whatever. She kept Philip and herself
alive. from day to day. and this occupa-
ton left her hardly time enough to think
whether there was anything to hope for
or not.
Philip had tainted within moment
after she had reached his side there on
the ice. after the fight with Roscoe. He
had recovered almost Immediately. and
had walked along with her. steadily
enough. as far as the ice cave; but here
he collapsed in good earnest. His in
iuries would not have been dangerous IL
he could have been put directly into a
hospital, or even if they could have COM
| manded medical and surgical skill of the
| simplest sort. Situated as they were.
however, 1t was no wonder that within
a few hours he became very sick man.
1t was impossible. of course, for him
to get back INTO the pilot house. Jeanne
mounted thither and dismantied the place
as we'll as she could. throwing or carry
ing down such articles as she thought
might be of use. With the skins they
had accumulated during the winter she
contrived a sort of shelter i'm the nail
burned storeroom behind what had been
the hut. There she took what care she
could Of her invalid.
Much of the time Philip was delirious
sometimes violently so, and yet she often
had to leave him. When she did so it
was with no certainty at all that she
would find him alive upon her return.
Occasionally during that interminable
time. when all reckoning of time itself
was lost she found herself recalling pas
sages from her fathers journal. with an
infinitely better understanding OF them
and of the man himself than she had ever
commanded before. She was living his
gospel now in all earnest-without real
hope, yet equally without despair. Living
life one hour, one problem, one act at
time.
She had little leisure and less energy
for reflection. AS rule. when there was
nothing that reeded Immediately to be
done. she would drop down on the bear.
skins beside Philip and snatch a morsel
of sleep. But even at that she sometimes
wondered at the change which had come
over her-at the things which she could
do quite simply and effortlsssly now.
She had once asked Philip. half play
fully. if he could not treat her like kid
brother and make a man Of her. Well,
that was what he was doing now. UNI
consciously and involuntarily-just by ~
ing there helpless-just by depending ut
terly upon her for every hour of life he
had.
In one of his brief periods Of lucidity
Philip had told her what he had done
during his brief ard disastrous absence
from the pilot house. How he had found
Roscoe's cave and waited there for his
return.
At the risk of forcing his fluttering
mind back into delirium she had pressed
him for as exact description as he could
compass Of the location of this cave. Dur
ing his next comparatively quiet sleep
| iIiy,fo dos m
Of the place had not been reassuring, ana
he had done even fuller justice to It's
horrors during the wanderings OF his de-
lirium and yet she had faced the situa-
ton with hardly shudder.
She set out equipped with flint ana
steel and candles, and found the place
without difficulty, and had explored tne
grisly lair where the man-monster mao
lived, to the utmost hardly conscious OF
ITS oathsomeness-not conscious a. o.
in fact. except as she thought OF the ei-
feet the sight of such a place Wocid
once have had upon her
This she was sure of: II she ana fhlhp
ever came alive through this winter, ever
went back together to the Worio OF men.
| there would he an entirely new JOY 1or
her in living. JOY springine from d
feeling of independence, from certainty
that whatever situation she might be con-
fronted with she would be equal 10 IL.
At last the conviction was forced upon
her that Philip was actually on the road
to recovery. His delirium became less
violent and occurred at longer Intervals.
The frightful condition Of his WOUNDS De
gan visibly to improve. InstinctiVeiy she
| resisted this conviction as long as she
| could. refusing almost passionately to be-
gin to hope-for the return of nope
brought an almost intolerable pain with
it, Without hope there had been no
fear. no apprehension--just as in a frozen
limb there is no pain. But. as the posi-
biiity OF his recovery became palmer the
slenderness Of the thread by which his HE
was hanging became palmer. too.
thousand chances which she could not
guard against might cut the thread anu
destroy the hope newborn.
The greatest and most terrible OF these
was the caprice Of nature herself. Until