The Dead Are Silent | Page 4

took the head in both his hands and raised it. "What are you doing?" screamed Emma, hoarsely, shrinking back at the sight of the head that seemed to be rising of its own volition.
"Please, Miss--I'm afraid--I'm thinking--there's a great misfortune happened--"
"No--no--it's not true!" said Emma. "It can't be true!--You are not hurt? Nor am I--"
The man let the head he held fall back again into the lap of the trembling Emma. "If only some one would come--if the peasants had only passed fifteen minutes later."
"What shall we do?" asked Emma, her lips trembling.
"Why, you see, Miss, if the carriage was all right--but it's no good as it is--we've got to wait till some one comes--" he talked on, but Emma did not hear him. Her brain seemed to awake suddenly, and she knew what was to be done. "How far is it to the nearest house?" she asked.
"Not much further, Miss--there's Franz-Josef's land right there. We'd see the houses if it was lighter--it won't take five minutes to get there."
"Go there, then; I'll stay here--Go and fetch some one."
"I think I'd better stay here with you, Miss. Somebody must come; it's the main road."
"It'll be too late; we need a doctor at once."
The coachman looked down at the quiet face, then he looked at Emma, and shook his head.
"You can't tell," she cried.
"Yes, Miss--but there'll be no doctor in those houses."
"But there'll be somebody to send to the city--"
"Oh, yes, Miss--they'll be having a telephone there, anyway! We'll telephone to the Rescue Society."
"Yes, yes, that's it. Go at once, run--and bring some men back with you. Why do you wait? Go at once. Hurry!"
The man looked down again at the white face in her lap. "There'll be no use here for doctor or Rescue Society, Miss."
"Oh, go!--for God's sake go!"
"I'm going, Miss--but don't get afraid in the darkness here."
He hurried down the street. "'Twasn't my fault," he murmured as he ran. "Such an idea! to drive down this road this time o' night."
Emma was left alone with the unconscious man in the gloomy street.
"What shall I do now?" she thought "It can't be possible--it can't." The thought circled dizzily in her brain--"It can't be possible." Suddenly she seemed to hear a low breathing. She bent to the pale lips--no--not the faintest breath came from them. The blood had dried on temple and cheek. She gazed at the eyes, the half-closed eyes, and shuddered. Why couldn't she believe it?... It must be true--this was Death! A shiver ran through her--she felt but one thing--"This is a corpse. I am here alone with a corpse!--a corpse that rests on my lap!" With trembling hands she pushed the head away, until it rested on the ground. Then a feeling of horrible alone-ness came over her. Why had she sent the coachman away? What should she do here all alone with this dead man in the darkness? If only some one would come--but what was she to do then if anybody did come? How long would she have to wait here? She looked down at the corpse again. "But I'm not alone with him," she thought, "the light is there." And the light seemed to her to become alive, something sweet and friendly, to which she owed gratitude. There was more life in this little flame than in all the wide night about her. It seemed almost as if this light was a protection for her, a protection against the terrible pale man who lay on the ground beside her. She stared into the light until her eyes wavered and the flame began to dance. Suddenly she felt herself awake--wide awake. She sprang to her feet. Oh, this would not do! It would not do at all--no one must find her here with him. She seemed to be outside of herself, looking at herself standing there on the road, the corpse and the light below her; she saw herself grow into strange, enormous proportions, high up into the darkness. "What am I waiting for?" she asked herself, and her brain reeled. "What am I waiting for? The people who might come? They don't need me. They will come, and they will ask questions--and I--why am I here? They will ask who I am--what shall I answer? I will not answer them--I will not say a word--they cannot compel me to talk."
The sound of voices came from the distance.
"Already?" she thought, listening in terror. The voices came from the bridge. It could not be the men the driver was bringing with him. But whoever it was would see the light--and they must not see it, for then she would be discovered. She overturned the lantern with her foot, and the light went out. She stood in utter darkness. She could see nothing--not even him. The