Part 57 (1/2)

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 b.l.o.o.d.y 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.”

And she kept her word. For days and nights her husband remained unconscious, wavering between life and death. The faithful woman, as indifferent to the tumult and havoc in the city as if it were in another land, sat beside him and furthered all efforts in a winning fight.

Merwyn saw him in a hospital ward, surrounded by skilful hands, before he took his leave.

”G.o.d bless ye!” Sally began. ”If yez hadn't brought me--”

But, pressing her hand warmly, he did not wait to hear her grateful words.

CHAPTER XLV.

THE DECISIVE BATTLE.

MERWYN was now very anxious to reach police headquarters in Mulberry Street, for he felt that the safety of the city, as well as all personal interests dear to him, depended upon adequate and well-organized resistance.

The driver, having been promised a handsome reward to remain, still waited. Indeed, he had gained the impression that Merwyn was in sympathy with the ruthless forces then in the ascendant, and he felt safer in his company than if returning alone.

Mounting the box again, Merwyn directed the driver to make his way through the more open streets to Broadway and 14th Street.

They had not gone far through the disturbed districts when four rough-looking men stopped them, took possession of the hack, and insolently required that they should be driven to Union Square. The last ugly-visaged personage to enter the vehicle paused a moment, drew a revolver, and said, ”An' ye don't 'bey orders, this little bull-dog will spake to ye next.”

The Jehu looked with a pallid face at Merwyn, who said, carelessly: ”It's all right. They are going in my direction.”

The quartet within soon began to entertain suspicions of Merwyn, and the one who had last spoken, apparently the leader, thrust his head out of the window and shouted: ”Shtop! Who the divil is that chap on the box wid ye?”