Lennox stared at him with his eyes dilating, and then he turned sharply and looked from Dickenson to the doctor and back again, ending by clapping his hands to his forehead and holding his breath before gazing wildly at Roby once more as if doubting that the torrent of reproaches he listened to were real.
“Am I off my head a little, doctor?—the sun, and that dreadful thirst. Am I mad?”
“Mad? No, my lad; but you’re in a parlous state.—Here, orderly, I must have Mr Lennox in the next hut. He is exciting Captain Roby horribly.”
“Yes; horribly,” said Lennox. “Poor fellow! Is he so bad as that?”
“Oh yes, he’s bad enough,” said the doctor gruffly.
“Corporal May, too,” said Lennox, with a troubled look at the other patients occupying the hut. “Are you much hurt, May?”
For answer the man glared at him and turned his face away, making Lennox wince again and look at the other patient. But he was lying fast asleep.
“Rather a queer welcome,” said the young officer, turning now to Dickenson, and once more his eyes dilated with a wondering look. “Why, Bob, you’re not going to call me a coward too?”
“Likely!” said the young man gruffly.
“Don’t stand talking to him, Mr Dickenson,” said the doctor sharply.—“Here, lean on the orderly, sir; he’ll help you into the next hut. I want to try and diagnose your case.”