“I would much rather be there,” said Dr. Shedd with some scorn in his voice, “than like you, leave the unarmed, the sick, the weak, the women and the children to the mercy of the enemy.”

He was rejoiced that the British had come.

“There was,” said Mrs. Shedd, “a ring in his voice, a light in his eyes, a buoyancy in his step that I had not seen for months.”

He had shepherded his thousands and thousands of boys and girls, and men and women through the mountains into the protection of the British squadron of troops.

IV

Later that day Dr. Shedd began to feel the frightful heat of the August day so exhausting that he had to lie down in the cart, which had a canvas cover open at both ends and was therefore much cooler than a tent.  He got more and more feverish.  So Mrs. Shedd got the Assyrian boys to take out the baggage and she made up a bed for him on the floor of the cart.

The English doctor was out with the cavalry who were holding back and dispersing the Turkish force.

Then a British officer came and said:  “We are moving the camp forward under the protection of the mountains.”

It was late afternoon.  The cart moved forward into the gathering darkness.  Mrs. Shedd crouched beside her husband on the floor of the cart attending to him, expecting the outriders to tell her when they came to the British Camp.

For hours the cart rolled and jolted over the rough mountain roads.  At last it stopped, it was so dark they could not see the road.  They were in a gully and could not go forward.

“Where is the British camp?” asked Mrs. Shedd.

“We passed it miles back on the road,” was the reply.

It was a terrible blow:  the doctor, the medicines, the comfort, the nursing that would have helped Dr. Shedd were all miles away and he was so ill that it was impossible to drive him back over that rough mountain track in the inky darkness of the night.

There was nothing to do but just stay where they were, send a messenger to the camp for the doctor, and wait for the morning.

“Only a few drops of oil were left in the lantern,” Mrs. Shedd tells us, “but I lighted it and looked at Mr. Shedd.  I could see that he was very sick indeed and asked two of the men to go back for the doctor.  It was midnight before the doctor reached us.

“The men,” Mrs. Shedd continues, “set fire to a deserted cart left by the refugees and this furnished fire and light all night.  They arranged for guards in turn and lay down to rest on the roadside.  Hour after hour I crouched in the cart beside my husband massaging his limbs when cramps attacked him, giving him water frequently, for while he was very cold to the touch, he seemed feverish.  We heated the hot water bottle for his feet, and made coffee for him at the blaze; we had no other nourishment.  He got weaker and weaker, and a terrible fear tugged at my heart.