He seemed to calm down then and lay quite still muttering about the boat—the oar breaking—and the black water.
“It kept me down,” he said with another shudder, and speaking as if to himself. “It kept me down till I felt that I was drowning. Jack Scales,” he said aloud, “how does a man feel when he is drowned?”
“Don’t know, old fellow. Never was drowned,” said the doctor cheerily.—“Now, look here; it’s only just sunrise, so you’d better go to sleep again, and then you’ll wake up as lively as a cricket.”
“Sunrise?—sunrise?” said Scarlett excitedly—“sunrise?” And as he spoke he looked round from one to the other. “Why, you’ve been sitting up all night! Of course, I’m down here. Have I been very bad?”
The doctor hesitated for a few moments, and then, deeming it best to tell him all, he said quietly:
“Well, pretty bad, old fellow, but we brought you to again, and it’s all right now.”
“Yes, it’s all right now. It’s all right now,” muttered Scarlett, looking from one to the other, and then clinging tightly to his wife’s hand he closed his eyes once more, lay muttering for a time, and then seemed to be fast asleep.
Lady Scarlett kept following the doctor’s every movement with her wistful eyes till he said in a whisper: “Let him sleep, and I’ll come back presently.”
“Don’t you leave me, Kate,” cried Scarlett, shuddering.
“No, no, dear,” she said tenderly; and the poor fellow uttered a low sigh, and remained with his eyes closed, as the doctor softly left the room, beckoning to Aunt Sophia to follow him.