‘Alas! monsieur,’ she said, ‘that is two weeks ago to-morrow.’
Jack looked and felt horrified. ‘And I have been here all that time?’ he said.
Jack looked at his thin arms. ‘That accounts for these then,’ he said, and sank back wearily.
‘Monsieur,’ said Irma, ‘you have been very, very ill; we long despaired of saving your life. We have watched you day and night. You have been delirious all the time, and talking, oh, so much! till our hearts ached for you. We could not understand one word you said; but we thought you called always for mother—mother.’ She pronounced it ‘mauzher.’ ‘Tell me, who is “mauzher”?’
Jack smiled and explained that it must have been his mother he raved of.
Irma smiled, and said artlessly, ‘Ah, I am glad! After some days the doctor said you would live; but you had to be kept very quiet, and now here you are. The fever has left you, and all you have to do is to get strong again.’
Jack thought for some time, then he said, ‘How did I get here?’
‘You fainted right away in the hospital in Sebastopol, and then grew delirious. The doctors there said you must die; but Alexis had you wrapped in blankets, and, borrowing a carriage, drove you here, and—we have nursed you.’
‘How can I ever repay you?’