“Calmer now. He was half mad when he came to, and Knatchbull was afraid of brain fever, but he gave him something to quiet the excitement. Better have given you something too.”
“What are you going to do?” said Leslie, turning upon the old man suddenly, and with a wild look in his eyes.
“Do nothing rashly,” said Uncle Luke.
“But time is flying, man.”
“Yes. Always is,” said Uncle Luke, coolly, as he watched his companion with half-closed eyes.
“But—”
“That will do. I cannot discuss the matter to-night, my head’s in a whirl. Do nothing rashly is a capital maxim.”
“But we are wasting time.”
“Look here, young man,” said Uncle Luke, taking Leslie by the lappet of the coat. “I’m not blind. I dare say I can see as far through you as most people can. I am an old man, and at my time of life I can be calm and dispassionate, and look on at things judicially.”
“Judicially?” said Leslie bitterly; “any child could judge here.”