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Connor, Ralph, Pseudonym, 1860-1937

"Corporal Cameron of the North West Mounted Police; a tale of the Macleod trail"

Cameron, who had been lying with his eyes closed and was
ghastly white from loss of blood, opened his eyes and smiled up into the
face above him.
"I feel fine--now," he said and closed his eyes again.
"Let me do that," said Nurse Haley with a kind of jealous fierceness,
taking the sponge and basin from the little nurse.
Examination revealed nothing more serious, however, than a deep scalp
wound and a slight concussion.
"He will be fit enough in a couple of days," said the doctor when the
wound was dressed.
Then, pale and haggard as if with long watching, Nurse Haley went to her
room there to fight out her lonely fight while Cameron slept.
The day passed in quiet, the little nurse on guard, and the doctor
looking in every half hour upon his patient. As evening fell Cameron
woke and demanded Nurse Haley. The doctor felt his pulse.
"Send her in!" he said and left the tent.
The rays of the sun setting far down the Pass shone through the walls
and filled the tent with a soft radiance. Into this radiance she came,
her face pale as of one who has come through conflict, and serene as of
one who has conquered, pale and strong and alight, not with the radiance
of the setting sun, but with light of a soul that has made the ancient
sacrifice of self-effacing love.
"You want me?" she said, her voice low and sweet, but for all her brave
serenity tremulous.


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