In health he might not have done this; for, though anything but a vindictive man, Jessup was proud in his manly way, and would have shrunk from that means of reassuring the man who had hurt him; but there was still continued riots of fever in his brain, and in the terror brought on him by Storms he had forgotten all the rest. Indeed, he had been incapable of cool reasoning from the first; but his affectionate nature acted for itself.
Now, when the pressure of doubt regarding his own child was removed, a struggle to remember events clearly came on, which threatened to excite his nerves into continued restlessness. He was constantly pondering over the subject of that attack, and the morning found him dangerously wakeful.
"My child."
Ruth, who had been resting in an easy-chair, was by his side in an instant.
"I am here, father, but you have not slept. How bright your eyes are!"
"Ruth, have I been out of my head again, or did you say something in the night that lifted the stone from my heart? Is it all or half a dream?"
"I told you only the truth, father."
"Ah, but that truth was everything. It may change everything."
"Do not talk so eagerly, father; the doctor will scold me when he comes."
"Let him scold. You have done me more good, child, than he ever can; but you look worn out, your eyes have dark stains under them."