“Well enough. Only my face aches,” Hugh admitted in a whisper that pained him.
“I could have forgiven him, had he killed the lad clean and quick,” Strangwayes broke out; “but to hack him into pieces thus!”
“Hell gnaw him for it!” Ridydale growled back.
With neither wit nor strength to reason out of what or whom they spoke, Hugh lay quiet and unresisting in the arms of his companions. He wondered if their coats were wrapped about him, he felt so warm. Then, after a space where even wonder was blotted out, he felt his shirt thrust open again and the air cold on his breast. “Give me those other napkins,” Strangwayes’ voice sounded hard and colorless; “he is bleeding again.”
Something like a groan burst from Ridydale. “May we not venture it now, sir?” he begged.
“In God’s name, yes!” Strangwayes cried.
Hugh felt himself lifted up, and with the movement came a throbbing pain through all his body, and then a deathly faintness, that left him no strength to cry out. Through it all he caught a glimpse of a blackness above him that must be the night sky, and then it was all a blackness, where he could not even feel Dick’s touch.
For one instant of agony the light returned to him. It seemed they must have torn open all his wounds, and they would not spare him, even when at last he cried for mercy. Strangwayes’ face came out of the blur of light, and Strangwayes griped hold of his hand, but gave him no other comfort. Then the light went out, and for a space Hugh had only ugly dreams.
It was of a morning that he opened his eyes again upon a sane and remembered world. Somewhere near crackled a fire, the light of which dazzled him so he blinked and closed his eyes once more. Gradually he became aware that he was warm, and lay on something soft. He felt no pain at all now, and he could not understand why they had so fettered his body with bandages. Presently he summoned energy to open his eyes a second time, and, with long intervals of dozing, lay staring about him: a small, bare room he did not recollect to have seen before; one high, narrow window, with a naked branch that seemed to cleave it from corner to corner; a dancing fire that for a long time fascinated him. After that he studied the blue coverlet that was flung over him, and then, dragging out one arm, rested it upon the coverlet, and marvelled that his wrist was grown so slender.
Then from somewhere Strangwayes came and stood over him, just the same as he had ever been, only now the lower part of his face was black with a half-grown beard. “Do you know me, Hugh?” he asked, and for once there was no laughter in his eyes.