“Hah! we must settle that after a sleep,” said Brace, and I stared at him in astonishment, he seemed so cheerful and calm.
Chapter Nineteen.
I sat talking to Craig that evening as the poor fellow was indulged by the doctor with his pipe.
“Are you in much pain?” I said.
“Yes, sir; horrible—in my head.”
“I’ll soak my handkerchief, and lay it across your forehead,” I said, rising.
“No, no, sir; that will do no good,” he replied, laughing. “It’s mental pain, because I’m so helpless. I want to be on my legs again, and then on a horse. It’s horrible being carried about as I am, and in every one’s way.”
“Be patient,” I said. “You’re a hale, hearty man, and will soon recover.”