He went with her into the convent and to the pallet on which was stretched the long, still figure of Graydon Bansemer. A surgeon was standing near by, studying the grey face with thoughtful eyes. Bray's first glance at the suffering face sent a thrill of encouragement through his veins. The man was beyond all human help; the grip of death was already upon his heart.
Then, the true manhood that had been his, through all generations, revolted against the thought that was in his mind. The man should not die if it was in his power to prevent; no matter what the cost to him, he would give his aid to her and hers. He tried to put aside the feeling that death was certain--and very soon, at that; he sought honestly to justify himself in the hope that Bansemer's life could be saved, after all.
"Leave me alone with the doctor, Miss Cable," he said. She was kneeling beside the man on the cot. Without a word, but with a dark appealing look into the Virginian's eyes, she arose and went swiftly away. "What chance has this poor fellow, doctor?"
"None whatever, sir. He'll be dead in an hour. I'm sorry, on her account. Strange case. I've heard she belongs to a fine family in the East. Poor devil, he's got an awful hole in his side."
"Have you made a careful examination? Is it possible that no vital spot has been touched?"
"We haven't had time for a thorough examination; it was better not to waste the time on him when there were others whom we have a chance to save."
"You will oblige me, doctor, by giving him the quickest and most careful attention. There may be a chance. He is one of the bravest men in the army. Don't let him die if there is a chance for him. Miss--er--the nurse--has asked if he can be moved to-day."
"No. But wait; I don't see why, if it will satisfy her. He will die anyhow, so why not tell her that we will start south with him to-morrow?"
"It isn't fair. She should be told the truth."
"He'd die, that's all--any way you put it."
"You will make the examination?"
"Yes, in--at once."
"But you--you feel that it is hopeless?"
"Certainly, sir."
"I'm-I'm sorry," said Bray, walking away. The doctor looked after him with a queer expression in his eyes and then called his confrere to the pallet.
Bray found Jane waiting for him outside the door; Teresa Velasquez was standing beside her, holding her hand.
"What does he say?" cried Jane, grey with anguish.