“I agree,” said I, calmly.
“Give me your hand on it.”
I gave him my hand; and as he held it in his own, he said, “On the faith of a gentleman, I will never reveal to my last day what shall pass here this morning.”
I repeated the words after him, and we moved on into the school.
I had drawn my sofa in front of the fire, and, stretching myself on it, fell into a deep dreamless sleep. A night's wakefulness, and the excitement I had gone through, had so far worked upon me that I did not hear the opening of my door, nor the tread of a heavy man as he came forward and seated himself by the fire. It was only the cold touch of hi» fingers on the wrist as he felt my pulse that at last aroused me.
“Don't start, don't flurry yourself,” said he, calmly, to me. “I am the doctor. I have been to see the other, and I promised to look in on you.”
“How is he? Is it serious?”
“It will be a slow affair. It was an ugly thrust,—all the dorsal muscles pierced, but no internal mischief done.”
“He will certainly recover then?”