She woke at length, but not as sleepers wake,
Rather the dead, for life seemed something new,
A strange sensation which she must partake
Perforce, since whatsoever met her view
Struck not her memory; though a heavy ache
Lay at her heart, whose earliest beat, still true,
Brought back the sense of pain, without the cause,
For, for a time the furies made a pause.
--Byron.
So Nora's lifeless form was laid upon the bed. Old Mrs. Jones, who had
fallen asleep in her chair, was aroused by the disturbance, and stumbled
up only half awake to see what was the matter, and to offer her
assistance.
Old Jovial had modestly retired to the chimney corner, leaving the poor
girl to the personal attention of her sister.
Hannah had thrown off her shawl and bonnet, and was hastily divesting
Nora of her wet garments, when the old nurse appeared at her side.
"Oh, Mrs. Jones, is she dead?" cried the elder sister.
"No," replied the oracle, putting her warm hand upon the heart of the
patient, "only in a dead faint and chilled to the marrow of her bones,
poor heart! Whatever made her run out so in this storm? Where did you
find her? had she fallen down in a fit? What was the cause on it?" she
went on to hurry question upon question, with the vehemence of an old
gossip starving for sensation news.
"Oh, Mrs. Jones, this is no time to talk! we must do something to bring
her to life!" wept Hannah.
"That's a fact! Jovial, you good-for-nothing, lazy, lumbering nigger,
what are ye idling there for, a-toasting of your crooked black shins?
Put up the chunks and hang on the kettle directly," said the nurse with
authority.
Poor old Jovial, who was anxious to be of service, waiting only to be
called upon, and glad to be set to work, sprung up eagerly to obey this
mandate.
Thanks to the huge logs of wood used in Hannah's wide chimney, the
neglected fire still burned hotly, and Jovial soon had it in a roaring
blaze around the suspended kettle.
"And now, Hannah, you had better get out her dry clothes and a thick
blanket, and hang 'em before the fire to warm. And give me some of that
wine and some allspice to heat," continued Mrs. Jones.
The sister obeyed, with as much docility as the slave had done, and by
their united efforts the patient was soon dressed in warm dry clothes,
wrapped in a hot, thick blanket, and tucked up comfortably in bed. But
though her form was now limber, and her pulse perceptible, she had not
yet spoken or opened her eyes. It was a half an hour later, while Hannah
stood bathing her temples with camphor, and Mrs. Jones sat rubbing her
hands, that Nora showed the first signs of returning consciousness, and
these seemed attended with great mental or bodily pain, it was difficult
to tell which, for the stately head was jerked back, the fair forehead
corrugated, and the beautiful lips writhen out of shape.