Patsy did not answer very fully Elizabeth Denton’s eager questions concerning the nature of her husband’s injuries, but she tried to prepare the poor young wife for the knowledge that the wound would prove fatal.  This was a most delicate and difficult thing to do and Patsy blundered and floundered until her very ambiguity aroused alarm.

“Tell me the worst!” begged Elizabeth Denton, her face pale and tensely drawn.

“Why, I cannot do that, you see,” replied Patsy, “because the worst hasn’t happened yet; nor can I tell you the best, because a wound is such an uncertain thing.  It was a shell, you know, that exploded behind him, and Dr. Gys thought it made a rather serious wound.  Mr. Denton was unconscious a long time, and when he came to himself we eased his pain, so he would not suffer.”

“You came to get me because you thought he would die?”

“I came because he asked me to read to him your letters, and I found they comforted him so much that your presence would, I knew, comfort him more.”

There was a long silence.  Presently the countess asked in her soft, even voice: 

“Will he be alive when we get there?”

Patsy thought of the days that had been wasted, because of their detention at Ostend through Colonel Grau’s stupidity.

“I hope so, madam,” was all she could reply.

Conversation lagged after this episode.  Elizabeth was weeping quietly on her mother’s shoulder.  Patsy felt relief in the knowledge that she had prepared them, as well as she could, for whatever might wait upon their arrival.

The launch made directly for the ship and as she came alongside to the ladder the rail was lined with faces curious to discover if the errand had been successful.  Doctor Gys was there to receive them, smiling horribly as he greeted the two women in black.  Maud, seeing that they recoiled from the doctor’s appearance, took his place and said cheerfully: 

“Mr. Denton is asleep, just now, but by the time you have bathed and had a cup of tea I am quite sure he will be ready to receive you.”

“Tell me; how is he?  Are you his nurse?” asked the young wife with trembling lips.

“I am his nurse, and I assure you he is doing very well,” answered Maud with her pleasant, winning smile.  “When he finds you by his side I am sure his recovery will be rapid.  No nurse can take the place of a wife, you know.”

Patsy looked at her reproachfully, thinking she was misleading the poor young wife, but Maud led the ladies away to a stateroom and it was Dr. Gys who explained the wonderful improvement in the patient.

“Well,” remarked Uncle John, “if we’d known he had a chance, we wouldn’t have worried so because we were held up.  In fact, if we’d known he would get well, we needn’t have gone at all.”

“Oh, Uncle John!” cried Patsy reprovingly.

“It was your going that saved him,” declared the doctor.  “I promised to keep him alive, for that little wife of his, and when he took a turn for the worse I had to assume desperate chances—­which won out.”