"The twenty-eighth of July——"
"Yes. I understand."
Fräulein Roth wished him to be quiet, but after a long moment of contemplation of the ceiling, in which his brows puckered in a puzzled way, he spoke again.
And when Fräulein Roth anxiously desired him to be quiet, she discovered that Number 28 had a will of his own and only smiled at her earnestness.
"I am feeling quite strong," he said weakly. "It will do me no harm to talk, for some things puzzle me. I was brought here. Won't you tell me how?"
She debated with herself for a moment, but after an inspection of her patient she decided to tell him the facts.
"A peasant had discovered two men lying in a strip of woods near the road to Gradina. At first he had thought that both were dead, but upon closer examination he found that one of the men, although desperately wounded, still breathed, and notified the police, who summoned the ambulance."
"I?" asked the sick man.
She nodded. "You were brought here—to the Landes Hospital in a bad condition. The other man was dead."
"The other man—dead?"