“Very likely, but—hollo—how swelled this is!” said Dr. May, as they came to the bottom of the valley, where a stream rushed along, coloured with a turbid creamy yellow, making little whirlpools where it crossed the road, and brawling loudly just above where it roared and foamed between two steep banks of rock, crossed by a foot-bridge of planks, guarded by a handrail of rough poles. The doctor had traversed it, and gone a few paces beyond, when, looking back, he saw Norman very pale, with one foot on the plank, and one hand grasping the rail. He came back, and held out his hand, which Norman gladly caught at, but no sooner was the other side attained, than the boy, though he gasped with relief, exclaimed, “This is too bad! Wait one moment, please, and let me go back.”
He tried, but the first touch of the shaking rail, and glance at the chasm, disconcerted him, and his father, seeing his white cheeks and rigid lips, said, “Stop, Norman, don’t try it. You are not fit,” he added, as the boy came to him reluctantly.
“I can’t bear to be such a wretch!” said he. “I never used to be. I will not—let me conquer it;” and he was turning back, but the doctor took his arm, saying decidedly, “No, I won’t have it done. You are only making it worse by putting a force on yourself.” But the farther Norman was from the bridge, the more displeased he was with himself, and more anxious to dare it again. “There’s no bearing it,” he muttered; “let me only run back. I’ll overtake you. I must do it if no one looks on.”
“No such thing,” said the doctor, holding him fast. “If you do, you’ll have it all over again at night.”
“That’s better than to know I am worse than Tom.”
“I tell you, Norman, it is no such thing. You will recover your tone if you will only do as you are told, but your nerves have had a severe shock, and when you force yourself in this way, you only increase the mischief.”
“Nerves,” muttered Norman disdainfully. “I thought they were only fit for fine ladies.”
Dr. May smiled. “Well, will it content you if I promise that as soon as I see fit, I’ll bring you here, and let you march over that bridge as often as you like?”
“I suppose I must be contented, but I don’t like to feel like a fool.”
“You need not, while the moral determination is sound.”