'He is not badly hurt; in one way, this is not serious.'
'In one way,' sha gasped, with parching lips—'in what way is such protracted unconsciousness not serious?'
Morton had for some years worked a pearling boat off the unknown northern coasts of Western Australia, and had been a spectator and an actor in many wild scenes; but never had he known so acutely miserable a quarter of an hour as the present.
'Well,' he said slowly, thus driven to bay, 'perhaps it is serious in every way, only not as you think. You know the day has been very warm.'
'And the sun,' put in Laurette, 'often affects people without a regular sunstroke.'
But Stella did not even notice her. A glimmering suspicion had dawned on her. Talbot glided out of the room.
'Tell me the truth,' said Stella in a husky voice, still keeping her hand on Morton's arm.
'I thought you knew something of this weakness of Ted's; that he sometimes—not often—forgets himself; takes a little more stimulant than is good for him.'
A low moaning cry escaped from Stella; and she trembled convulsively as if in an ague-fit. They tried to draw her away, but she would not go. She stood as if spell-bound, white and horror-stricken, looking at Ted's insensible form and ghastly unmeaning face.
CHAPTER XLV.