“Seems to enjoy poor health?” asked Zaidos, smiling. “Well, I myself can’t really blame him. You don’t know how very wet we felt! I feel as though I could lie here a week and enjoy these dry sheets.”
“You will be very likely to do so whether you enjoy it or not,” said the nurse. “Legs do not mend in a day. When your friend thinks he is strong enough, I will suggest his coming to visit you.”
She passed on, and Zaidos lay staring at the wooden ceiling so near his head.
Round and round and round goes the wheel of fate, thought Zaidos.
He wondered what the next turn would be, and where it would carry him. He drank from the cup the nurse had given him, and presently dozed off, although his leg pained too much to allow him to get a sound sleep.
He was aroused later by voices near him, and recognized the sound of his cousin’s voice. Velo was talking in a rapid, low tone to one of the doctors.
“Looks like a nice boy,” said the doctor in Greek.
“Yes, he is,” said Velo. “But if he is my cousin, I must say he is one of the most stubborn fellows I have ever known.”
“Is that so?” thought Zaidos, keeping his eyes shut tight. He thought there would be no more talk about him, but the doctor went on, “He doesn’t look it.”
“No,” said Velo, “but he is. I thought I would never be able to rescue him from that sinking transport. He went sort of crazy; he was so afraid, and when the order came to jump, he clung to the rail, and refused to move. I had to twist his hands away, and jump with him.”