My hand was stretched out as I spoke, but it remained untouched for a few moments.
“It will not be a friendly grasp,” he said coldly.
“Indeed it will,” I cried; “for you have saved those who love me from a terrible time of sorrow.”
“Those who love you?” he said, taking my hand and holding it.
“Yes; mother, father, sister.”
“Ah, yes,” he said; “of course. You have friends at home in England?”
“No: here,” I said.
He did not speak for a few moments, and still retaining my hand, sank down cross-legged on the carpet close to my pillow, gazing at me thoughtfully.
Then, with the smile coming back to light up his face in a way which made me forget he was a deadly enemy, he said cheerfully—
“I am glad to see this. I knew you were better, and now you must grow strong quickly.”