He then rose, quietly, and moistened the doctor's lips and his brow while
I looked on, feeling that I was the most desolate and helpless thing in
the world, and as if I could weep for ever. And then all of a sudden,
through the recurring booming voices of the waves breaking on the cliffs
outside, burst out the shrill voice of the _Snowbird's_ siren and I
rushed to the door. Frenchy followed me, and I was so weak that I hung
upon his big arm. In the sodden blur of everything I saw our boat coming
in, like a great white ghost, and there were more blasts of her whistle.
She knew what a welcome awaited her and how we had despaired of her
arrival.

In the darkness I could see that people were rushing out of their houses,
cheering, and I heard piercing cries of women.

"Th' white ship she've come back," some of them were screaming.

They were scrambling down towards the landing, just hoping that they
might in some way be of service. The yacht had lost her headway but the
propeller was still churning, and I could see that she was turning around
to her mooring. Then I heard them putting the yawl overboard. Lights were
breaking out of some of the fish-house windows, and lanterns swung on the
little dock, and at last I dimly saw the rowboat coming. I ran down also,
with Frenchy, and met Stefansson.

"I got all of that stuff there was in St. John's," he said, "and this
gentleman is the doctor. We hunted high and low for a nurse but couldn't
get one right off."

But what cared I for nurses just then? Was I not ready to do all that a
woman possibly could? Was there a nurse in the world as ready as I to lay