DR. GYS SURPRISES HIMSELF
Henderson was waiting with the launch at the Ostend docks. Lieutenant
von Holtz was earnestly thanked by Patsy and Uncle John for his kindness
and in return he exacted a promise from them to hunt him up in Germany
some day, when the war was ended. The countess and Mrs. Denton, sad and
black-robed, had been made comfortable in the stern seats of the boat
and the captain was just about to order Henderson to start the engine
when up to them rushed the fat Belgian woman and her two children.
Without an instant's hesitation the two youngsters leaped aboard like
cats and their mother would have followed but for the restraining hand
of Captain Carg.
"What does this mean?" cried Mr. Merrick angrily.
The woman jabbered volubly in French.
"She says," interpreted Patsy, "that we promised to take her to Dunkirk,
so she may find her husband."
"Let her walk!" said Uncle John.
"The Germans won't allow her to cross the lines. What does it matter,
Uncle? We have plenty of room. In three hours we can be rid of them, and
doubtless the poor thing is really anxious to find her lost husband, who
was last seen in Dunkirk."
"He is a spy, and a traitor to both sides, according to report."
"That isn't our affair, is it? And I suppose even people of that class
have hearts and affections."
"Well, let her come aboard, Captain," decided Uncle John. "We can't
waste time in arguing."
They stowed her away in the bow, under Henderson's care, and threatened
the children with dire punishment if they moved from under her shadow.
Then the launch sped out into the bay and away toward Dunkirk.
Three days had brought many changes to the hospital ship _Arabella_. Of
the original batch of patients only Lieutenant Elbl, the German, and
Andrew Denton now remained. All the others had been sent home,
transferred to the government hospitals or gone back to the front,
according to the character of their injuries. This was necessary because
their places were needed by the newly wounded who were brought each day
from the front. Little Maurie was driving the ambulance again and, with
Ajo beside him and Dr. Kelsey and a sailor for assistants, the Belgian
would make a dash to Ypres or Dixmude or Furnes and return with a full
load of wounded soldiers.
These were the days of the severest fighting in Flanders, fighting so
severe that it could not keep up for long. There would come a lull
presently, when the overworked nurses and surgeons could get a bit of
sleep and draw a long breath again.
Gys had elected to remain aboard the ship, where with Maud and Beth he
was kept busy night and day. Two French girls--young women of good birth
and intelligence--had been selected by Dr. Gys from a number of
applicants as assistant nurses, and although they were inexperienced,
their patriotic zeal rendered them valuable. They now wore the Red Cross
uniforms and it was decided to retain them as long as the ship's
hospital remained crowded.
There was plenty of work for all and the worry and long hours might have
broken down the health and strength of Beth and Maud had not the doctor
instituted regular periods of duty for each member of the force and
insisted on the schedule being carried out.
This hospital ship was by no means so gloomy a place as the reader may
imagine. The soldiers were prone to regard their hurts lightly, as "a
bit of hard luck," and since many had slight injuries it was customary
for them to gather in groups upon the deck, where they would laugh and
chat together, play cards for amusement or smoke quantities of
cigarettes. They were mainly kind-hearted and grateful fellows and
openly rejoiced that the misfortunes of war had cast their lot on this
floating hospital.
Under the probe of the surgeon to-day, a fortnight hence back on the
firing line, was not very unusual with these brave men. The ambulances
had gathered in a few German soldiers, who would become prisoners of
war on their recovery, and while these were inclined to be despondent
and unsociable they were treated courteously by all, the Americans
showing no preference for any nation. The large majority of the
patients, however, came from the ranks of the Allies--French, English
and Belgian--and these were men who could smile and be merry with
bandaged heads, arms a-sling, legs in splints, bullet holes here and
there, such afflictions being regarded by their victims with a certain
degree of pride.
Dr. Gys was in his element, for now he had ample opportunity to display
his skill and his patients were unable to "jump to another doctor" in
case his ugly features revolted them. His main interest, however, lay in
the desperately wounded Belgian private, Andrew Denton, whom he had
agreed to keep alive until the return of Miss Doyle and her uncle.
In making this promise Gys had figured on a possible delay of several
days, but on the second day following Patsy's departure the sudden
sinking of his patient aroused a defiant streak in the surgeon and he
decided to adopt drastic measures in order to prevent Denton from
passing away before his wife's arrival.
"I want you to assist me in a serious operation," he said to Maud
Stanton. "By all the rules and precedents of human flesh, that fellow
Denton ought to succumb to his wound within the next three hours. The
shell played havoc with his interior and I have never dared, until now,
to attempt to patch things up; but if we're going to keep him alive
until morning, or until your cousin's return, we must accomplish the
impossible."
"What is that?" she inquired.
"Remove his vital organs, tinker them up and put them back so they will
work properly."
"Can that be done, doctor?"
"I think not. But I'm going to try it. I am positive that if we leave
him alone he has less than three hours of life remaining; so, if we
fail, Miss Stanton, as it is reasonable to expect, poor Denton will
merely be spared a couple of hours of pain. Get the anaesthetics,
please."
With all her training and experience as a nurse, Maud was half terrified
at the ordeal before her. But she realized the logic of the doctor's
conclusion and steeled her nerves to do her part.
An hour later she stood looking down upon the patient. He was still upon
the operating table but breathing quietly and as strongly as at any time
since he had received his wound.
"This shows," Dr. Gys said to her, his voice keen with elation, "what
fools we are to take any human condition for granted. Man is a machine.
Smash his mechanism and it cannot work; make the proper repairs before
it is too late and--there he goes, ticking away as before. Not as good a
machine as it was prior to the break, but with care and caution it will
run a long time."
"He will live, then, you think?" she asked softly, marveling that after
what she had witnessed the man was still able to breathe.
Gys leaned down and put his ear to the heart of the patient. For two
minutes he remained motionless. Then he straightened up and a smile
spread over his disfigured features.
"I confidently believe, Miss Stanton, we have turned the trick! Luck,
let us call it, for no sensible surgeon would have attempted the thing.
Rest assured that Andrew Denton will live for the next ten days. More
than that, with no serious set-back he may fully recover and live for
many years to come."
He was so pleased that tears stood in his one good eye and he wiped them
away sheepishly. The girl took his hand and pressed it in both her own.
"You are wonderful--wonderful!" she said.
"Don't, please--don't look in my face," he pleaded.
"I won't," she returned, dropping her eyes; "I will think only of the
clever brain, the skillful hand and the stout heart."
"Not even that," he said. "Think of the girl wife--of Elizabeth. It was
she who steadied my hand to-day. Indeed, Miss Stanton, it was
Elizabeth's influence that saved him. But for her we would have let him
die."