"Oh, damn the consequences!" said Noel. "I want to get up."
"And that ye can't!" was the doctor's prompt rejoinder. "Ye'll just lie quiet till further orders. Ye'll find yourself as weak as a rat moreover, when ye start to move about. It's only the fever in your veins that makes ye want to try."
Noel straightened himself in the bed. He was becoming aware of a fiery, throbbing torture beneath the bandages. With clenched teeth and hands hard gripped he set himself to endure.
But in a few minutes he turned his head again. "Are you still there,
Maloney?"
"Still here, my son," said Maloney.
"Well, go and find someone—anyone who knows—to tell me exactly what happened last night."
"I can tell ye meself," began Maloney.
But Noel interrupted. "No; not you! You're such a liar. No offence meant! You can't help it. Find—find Nick, will you?"
"It isn't visitors ye ought to be having with your pulse in this state," objected Maloney.
"Do as I say!" commanded Noel stubbornly.