I
thought you cared for him, too, Sophy dear--and I sent him away from
me-- And now he has gotten himself killed." With a gentle touch she
pushed back the thick reddish hair from his forehead. She looked at
me imploringly: "Don't let him be dead, Sophy! For God's sake,
Sophy, don't let him be dead! Make him open his eyes, Sophy!"
A negro teamster came upon us, recognized the doctor, shrieked, and
set off for help, lashing his mules into a mad run. But Alicia never
moved, and I huddled beside her, numb and silent, looking at the
white face upon her knees. With all the impatience wiped out, it was
a fine face, at once strong and sweet.
"Richard," said Alicia, "Richard, if I had been killed, and you
begged and prayed me from your breaking heart to listen to you, to
understand that you'd cared for me, only me, all along, _somehow_
I'd manage to let you know I understood. Richard, listen to me! Open
your eyes, Richard. Please, please, Richard, open your eyes!"
Her voice was so piteous that I fell to weeping. And, by the mercy
of God, Richard opened his eyes and stared with blue blankness
straight into Alicia's quivering, anguished face.
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