“Where is he?” shrieked the woman.

The surgeon, accustomed to similar scenes, nodded to an attendant, and said, gravely, “Show her.”

Merwyn took the poor woman’s hand to restrain as well as to reassure her, saying, with sympathies deeply touched, “Mrs. Ghegan, remember you are not friendless, whatever happens.”

“Quick! quick!” she said to her guide.  “Och! what’s a wurld uv frin’s if I lose Barney?  Poor man! poor man!  He once said I blew hot and could, but oi’d give him me loife’s blood now.”

To Merwyn’s sorrow they were led to the dead-house, and there lay the object of their quest, apparently lifeless, his battered face almost past recognition.  But Sally knew him instantly, and stared for a moment as if turned to stone; then, with a wild cry, she threw herself upon him, moaning, sobbing, and straining his unconscious form to her breast.

Merwyn felt that it would be best to let her paroxysm of grief expend itself unrestrained; but a bitter thought crossed his mind,—­“I may be in as bad a plight as poor Barney before the day closes, yet no one would grieve for me like that.”

Suddenly Mrs. Ghegan became still.  In her embrace her hand had rested over her husband’s heart, and had felt a faint pulsation.  A moment later she sprung up and rushed back to the office.  Merwyn thought that she was partially demented, and could scarcely keep pace with her.

Bursting in at the door, she cried:  “Och! ye bloody spalpanes, to put a loive man where ye did!  Come wid me, an’ oi’ll tache ye that I knows more than ye all.”

“Please satisfy her,” said Merwyn to the surgeon, who was inclined to ignore what he regarded as the wild ravings of a grief-crazed woman.

“Well, well, if it will do any good; but we have too much to do to-day for those who have a chance—­”

“Come on, or oi’ll drag ye there,” the wife broke in.

“When I’ve satisfied you, my good woman, you must become quiet and civil.  Other wives have lost their husbands—­”

But Sally was already out of hearing.  Reaching the supposed corpse, the deeply excited woman said, with eyes blazing through her tears, “Put yez hand on his heart.”

The surgeon did so, and almost instantly the expression of his face changed, and he said sharply to the attendant, “Bring a stretcher with bearers at once.”  Then to Sally:  “You are right; he is alive, but there was no such pulsation as this when he was brought here.  Now be quiet and cheer up, and we may help you save his life.  You can stay and take care of him.”

Merwyn again took the wife’s trembling hand and said, earnestly:  “Mrs. Ghegan, obey the surgeon’s orders exactly.  Be quiet, gentle, and self-controlled, and Barney may outlive us all.”

“Faix, Mr. Merwyn, now that oi’ve hope I’ll be whist as a baby asleep.  Ye knew me onst as a light, giddy gurl, but oi’ll watch over Barney wid such a slapeless eye as wud shame his own mither.”