The words sounded so real, and there was such a deathly aspect in the pallor and the cold perspiration that started upon the prostrate lad’s ghastly-looking face, that Waller was convinced at once, and quickly rising from where he sat he bent over and raised the lad’s head a little, but only to lay it down again as the poor fellow fell back quite insensible.
But the attack passed off as quickly as it had come, and, relieved by the removal of the heavy pressure upon his chest, he began to breathe more freely, his eyes opened slowly in a wild stare of wonder as if he could not comprehend where he was, and then, as his senses fully returned, a faint smile dawned upon his thin lips.
“Don’t laugh at me,” he said. “It was like a great girl. I must have fainted dead away.”
“Yes, you did, and no mistake,” said Waller. “Come down to the stream and have a drink of water.—If I let you get up you won’t try to escape?”
“No,” said the lad bitterly, as he raised one hand, and let it fall again heavily amongst the bracken. “I am as weak as a child.”
“Yes,” said Waller, “you are. Now, look here; you remember what you said about the honour of a gentleman?”
The lad bowed his head slightly.
“You are a gentleman?”
“Yes.”
“Then give me your word that you won’t try to escape.”