Beulah - Page 141/348

For many hours the rain fell unceasingly, but toward sunset the pall

of clouds was scourged on by a brisk western breeze, and the clear

canopy of heaven, no longer fiery as for days past, but cool and

blue, bent serenely over the wet earth. The slanting rays of the

swiftly sinking sun flashed through dripping boughs, creating

myriads of diamond sprays; and over the sparkling waters of the bay

sprang a brilliant bow, arching superbly along the eastern horizon,

where a bank of clouds still lay. Verily, it seemed a new covenant

that the destroying demon should no longer desolate the beautiful

city, and to many an anxious, foreboding heart that glorious rainbow

gave back hope and faith. A cool, quiet twilight followed. Beulah

knew that hearses still bore the dead to their silent chambers; she

could hear the rumbling, the melancholy, solemn sound of the wheels;

but firm trust reigned in her heart, and, with Clara's hand in hers,

she felt an intuitive assurance that the loved one would not yet be

summoned from her earthly field of action. The sick in the other

part of the house were much better, and, though one of the gentlemen

boarders had been taken since morning, she lighted the lamp and

stole about the room with a calmer, happier spirit than she had

known for many days. She fancied that her charge breathed more

easily, and the wild stare of the inflamed eyes was concealed under

the long lashes which lay on the cheeks. The sufferer slept, and the

watcher augured favorably. About nine o'clock she heard steps on the

stairs, and soon after Drs. Asbury and Hartwell entered together.

There was little to be told, and less to be advised, and while the

latter attentively examined the pulse and looked down at the altered

countenance, stamped with the signet of the dread disease, the

former took Beulah's hand in both his, and said kindly: "How do you do, my little heroine? By Nebros! you are worth your

weight in medical treatises. How are you, little one?"

"Quite well, thank you, sir, and I dare say I am much more able to

sit up with the sick than you, who have had no respite whatever.

Don't stand up, when you must be so weary; take this easy-chair."

Holding his hand firmly, she drew him down to it. There had always

been a fatherly tenderness in his manner toward her, when visiting

at her guardian's, and she regarded him with reverence and

affection. Though often blunt, he never chilled nor repelled her, as

his partner so often did, and now she stood beside him, still

holding one of his hands. He smoothed back the gray hair from his

furrowed brow, and, with a twinkle in his blue eye, said: "How much will you take for your services? I want to engage you to

teach my madcap daughters a little quiet bravery and uncomplaining

endurance."