"Lie quite still, Mayne. Are you in much pain?"
"No," I said. "I don't know. My shoulder aches."
"Don't talk; try and go to sleep again."
I looked up at him in a confused, puzzled way, and as I looked his face
began to grow misty, and the candle to burn more dimly, till both faded
slowly away, and all was dark once more.
I opened my eyes once more, and there was Mr Raydon standing by me with
a candle, and it was so faint that I could not be sure; and so it was
again and again as it seemed to me, and when I opened my eyes at last,
the bedroom window was wide, the sun shining in, and bringing with it
the sweet lemon-scented odour of the pines, and Esau was seated there
watching me.
"Hush!" he said, as I was opening my lips to speak. "Mustn't talk."
"Nonsense," I said; "I want to know."
I stopped there, for my voice puzzled me, and I lay wondering for a few
moments, till, like a flash of the sunshine coming into my darkened
brain, I recollected the blow, the report of the rifle, and Esau's cry,
and knew that the rifle had gone off when he fell, and I was lying there
badly wounded.
"Mr Raydon said you wasn't to speak a word," said Esau, softly; and he
stole out of the room so quietly that I knew he must be without his
boots.
A few minutes passed, and the door opened again, with Mr Raydon coming
in on tiptoe to advance and take my right hand within his left, and
place a couple of fingers on my wrist. I smiled as he played the part
of doctor like this, and he smiled back.
"Don't talk," he said; "I'll do that, my lad. Come, this is better.
Not so feverish as I expected. Just whisper when I ask a question.
Feel in much pain?"
"My shoulder aches and burns," I said.
"Yes; it will for a time; but that will soon go off. You remember now
about the accident? Yes? That's right. You were a little delirious
last night, and made me anxious, for we have no doctor hereabouts."
"Don't want one," said Esau, softly.
Mr Raydon asked me a few more questions, cautioned me not to speak
much, and to lie quite still, and then left us together.
Esau sat looking at me for a few minutes with his arms rested upon his
extended knees.
"I say, you're not to talk, you know, but I may. I say, I am so sorry.
Hush!--no! You mustn't say you know that, or anything else. I only
want to tell you it was an accident. You do know, don't you?"
I nodded, and then lay back with my eyes closed; the pain caused even by
that slight movement being agonising.
Dean saw it, and rose to moisten a sponge with cool water, and apply it
to my temples, with the effect that the faint sensation coming on died
away.
"Don't--please don't try to move again," he whispered, piteously. "You
don't know how it hurts."
The idea of its hurting Esau sounded so comical to me in my weak state
that I could not help smiling. "That's right," he said; "laugh again,
and then I shall know I needn't go and fetch him. I say, do make haste
and get better. Shall I tell you all about it? Don't speak; only say
`yes' and `no' with your eyes. Keep 'em open if you mean _yes_, and
shut 'em for _no_. Now then, shall I tell you?"