"Will you be still? A nice thing 'twould be if you were to aggravate that wound of yours! You will have been here a week to-morrow. Bless my heart, what ails the boy?" For Jack's face took on an expression of incredulous horror.
"A week, madam? Never say so!"
"'Tis as true as I stand here. And a nice fright you have given us, what with nearly dying, and raving about your Dicks and your Jims!"
My lord glanced up sharply.
"Oh! So I—talked?"
"Talk? Well, yes, if you can call all that mixture of foreign jargon talking. Now you must be still and wait till the doctor comes again."
For a while Carstares lay in silence. He thought of Jim and smiled a little. "I could not have thought of a better punishment had I tried," he told himself, and then frowned. "Poor fellow! He'll be off his head with fright over me. Miss—er—Betty?"
"Well, and are you not asleep yet?"
"Asleep, Madam? Certainly not!" he said with dignity. "I must write a letter."
"'Deed, an' you shall not!"