“Yes,” he whispered eagerly. “I wouldn’t say a word to any one else as I spoke to you first.”
I looked at him curiously.
“Oh no,” he said, as he interpreted my look. “I’m not feverish or delirious. Quite calm and cool, sir. Listen!”
I bent down, and he began talking in a low whisper, full of earnestness, as he unrolled his plan, and as he went on my heart began to beat, and my cheeks to flush.
“That makes your eyes sparkle, sir, doesn’t it?” he said. “That will do, won’t it?”
“Do, Craig!” I whispered. “It’s glorious. If it succeeds, they ought to give you a commission.”
“Think so?” he said. “Ah, well, perhaps I shan’t live to want it. But what are you going to do?”
“Go and tell the captain, of course,” I cried.
“That’s right; go and tell him, sir,” whispered the wounded man; “and good luck to you. Oh, if I could only have been in the game!”
“I wish from my heart you could have been, Craig,” I said, pressing his hand.