“What! Order me to go?” said the Major fiercely. “You go back to Doctor Morton, and tell him never to dare to send me such a message as that again.”
“Yes, sir,” said Gedge, saluting.
“No; stop. This is his own ground,” said the Major. “Here, go on with your duty, my lad, and keep a sharp eye on Mr Bracy. He is... or—er—not quite so well to-day. You needn’t tell the Doctor what I said.”
“No, sir; cert’n’y not, sir,” replied Gedge, and he held the door open, standing like a sentry till the Major had passed out, closed it, and I hen stood looking down at Bracy, who lay gazing at him despairingly for some moments before raising his hand cautiously and doubtingly towards his lips.
Chapter Sixteen.
Low Spirits.
“Drink o’ water, sir? Yus, sir—there you are.”
Gedge gently raised Bracy’s head and, all the time on the watch, hit him drink with avidity: but lowered his burden quickly the next instant, for with a sudden jerk the remainder of the water in the brass cup presented was jerked over his face, and the lotah went flying with a bell-like ring.