“But the doctor said I was not to encourage you to talk about the horror.”
“Well, you are not encouraging me; you are flopping on me like a wet blanket. I say, it was horrible, wasn’t it?”
“No,” said Dickenson angrily; “but this is.”
Lennox was silent for a few minutes, and he lay so quiet that Dickenson leaned forward to gaze at him earnestly, “All right, Bob. I’m here, and getting awfully strong compared with what I was a week ago. I shall get up and come out to-morrow.”
“You won’t. You’re too weak yet.”
“Oh no, I’m not. I shall be on duty in two or three days, and as soon as I’m well enough I want you and the sergeant to come with me to have another exploration with lanterns and a rope.”
“There, I knew it. You’re going off your head again.”
“Not a bit of it.”
“Then why can’t you leave the wretched cave alone?”
“Because it interests me. I mean to go down again at the end of the rope.”