It was Ralph Elthorne who broke that silence, and Neil started back to the present, for his imagination had been going rapidly astray.
“Yes,” he said quietly; “it is the truth.”
He paused again for a few moments.
“You need not tell me,” he continued, “but, answer this: and I shall quite recover—the use—of my limbs—and get about—again—as before?”
Nurse Elisia did not remove her eyes from those which gazed into hers with such fierce question; but her own grew cloudy and seemed to darken with sadness and pity for the suffering man.
“Answer me,” he said imperiously.
She turned quickly to Neil.
“No,” cried Mr Elthorne; “don’t ask him what you are to say. Speak out—the truth.”
She bent lower over him with her eyes brimming over now, a couple of drops falling upon the invalid’s breast as he clung spasmodically to her hand.
“You cannot lie,” he said hoarsely. “The truth—the truth?”