"OH, HURRY--_HURRY!_"
That train!--She would go mad if it kept stopping like that. She kept
leaning forward in her seat, every muscle tense, fairly pushing the train
on with every nerve that was in her. Never once did she relax--on--on--it
must go on! She would _make_ it go faster! When it stopped she clenched
her hands, her nails digging into the flesh--and then when it started
again that same feeling that she, from within herself, must push it on.
At times she looked from the window. Now this field was past--they
were so much nearer. Soon they would be over there where the track
curved--that was a long way ahead. They were going faster now. She would
lean forward again--pushing on, trying through the straining of her own
nerves to make the train go faster.
Mrs. Rolfe had wanted to come with her, but she said no. It seemed she
could get there faster by herself. There had been an hour's wait for the
train; it made her sick, even now, to think back to that hour. At least
this was doing something, getting somewhere. She had telegraphed to every
one she could think of, but no reply had come up to the time the train
started. She reasoned that out with herself, now for good, now for bad.
And then--if he were better, if there were anything good to tell--
Her temples were thumping more loudly than the train thumped. Her heart
was choking her. Her throat was so tight she could not breathe. Again and
again she went over it to herself. Dr. Parkman had operated on Karl. Of
course Dr. Parkman would do it right. He would not dare to operate on him
without her being there unless he was absolutely sure it would be all
right. And then close upon that--he would have waited for her if--
Appendicitis--that was what those quick operations were. And most of
them--especially with Dr. Parkman--came out all right. And Karl was the
doctor's best friend! Would not a man save his best friend when he could
save every one else? And Karl himself--his will, his power, his love for
her--why Karl would _know_ that nothing must happen while she was away!
But close upon that came awful visions--Oh _why_ had Dr. Parkman sent
her away and then done this thing? She would tell him when she got
there--she would tell him--
It would all be right when she got there. If only the train would hurry!
There was smoke off there. Was it?--It _was_ the smoke of Chicago!
Nothing had ever looked so beautiful before. Very soon now! Why, perhaps
within a few hours she and Karl would be laughing at this! "Isn't it
great the way I got on, liebchen?" he would say. "Isn't Parkman a dandy?"
They were passing those houses on the outskirts. Oh why was Chicago so
big! But she must be calm--very calm; she must not excite Karl in the
least. How sorry he would be that she had been frightened like this! They
were passing larger buildings, coming closer to the city. She gritted her
teeth hard, clenched her hands.
Karl was at the hospital--the telegram told that. She would get off at
the stop just this side of the main station--that was a little nearer the
hospital, she believed. She would take a cab--if only there were an
automobile!--but the cabman would surely go very fast if she told him why
she had to hurry like this.
Long before the train came to its stop she was standing at the door. She
would not have waited for the standstill if the porter had not held her
back. Oh how she must hurry now!
She ran to the nearest cabman. Would he hurry very fast?--faster than he
ever had before? It was life and death, it was--"Yes--yes, lady," he
said, putting her in. "Yes, I understand. I'll hurry."
"But faster," she kept saying to him--"oh _please_, faster!"
She saw nothing either to the right or left. She saw only the straight
line ahead which they must travel. And still everything from within her
was pushing her on--oh if the man would only _hurry_!
A big building at last--the hospital. Only two blocks now, then one, and
then the man had slowed up. She was out before he stopped, running up the
steps--somebody in the hospital would pay--and up the stairs. The
elevator was there--but her own feet would take her faster.
"Dr. Hubers?--Where is he?" she said in choked voice to a nurse in the
hall.
The nurse started to speak, but Ernestine, looking ahead, saw Dr. Parkman
standing in the door of a room. She rushed to him with outstretched hand,
white, questioning, pleading face. Her lips refused to move.