"When I found that you were amongst friends, sir," answered Morcar, "and that there was no longer any necessity for me to proceed to Naples, I returned to my brethren, the Cingani. I have dwelt with them ever since; but have occasionally called to inquire after you."
"Nay, my faithful friend," exclaimed Richard, taking the gipsy's hand, "do not depreciate your own goodness of heart. I have learnt how regularly you came to pass the evening by my side, and how kindly you ministered to me. Heaven grant that the day may arrive when I shall be enabled to reward you adequately."
"You must not talk any more at present, sir," said the gipsy. "If you will only remain quiet for a few days, you will be quite well; and then—"
"And then, what?" asked Richard, seeing that the gipsy checked himself.
"And then we can deliberate on the best course to adopt," replied Morcar.
Our hero saw that his dependant had some plan in his head; but he did not choose to press him on the subject.
A fortnight had elapsed since Richard Markham awoke to consciousness in the house of the generous Castelcicalan banker.
This interval had produced a marvellous change in his physical condition.
A powerful constitution, aided by excellent medical advice, and the unremitting attention of his kind friends, enabled him to triumph over the severity of the treatment which he had experienced at the hands of the banditti.