Jimbo jumped as if he had been shot, and uttered a piercing yell.
"That hurts!" he screamed.
"I'm so glad," cried the governess. "That's the pains coming at last." Her face was beaming.
"Coming!" he echoed, "I think they've come. But if they hurt as much as that, I think I'd rather not escape," he added ruefully.
"The pain won't last more than a minute," she said calmly. "You must be brave and stand it. There's no escape without pain—from anything."
"If there's no other way," he said pluckily, "I'll try,—but——"
"You see," she went on, rather absently, "at this very moment the doctor is probing the wounds in your back where the horns went in——"
But he was not listening. Her explanations always made him want either to cry or to laugh. This time he laughed, and the governess joined him, while they sat on the edge of the bed together talking of many things. He did not understand all her explanations, but it comforted him to hear them. So long as somebody understood, no matter who, he felt it was all right.
In this way several days and nights passed quickly away. The pains were apparently no nearer, but as Miss Lake showed no particular anxiety about their non-arrival, he waited patiently too, dreading the moment, yet also looking forward to it exceedingly.
During the day the governess spent most of the time in the room with him; but at night, when he was alone, the darkness became enchanted, the room haunted, and he passed into the long, long Gallery of Ancient Memories.