“Where am I?” I murmured.
The man turned quickly, and rising laid his book upon the chair, face downward, while he bent over me.
“How do you find yourself now, sir?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied, scarcely realising the meaning of my own words. “Is there anything the matter?”
“You’ve been very ill, sir, for a long time; but you seem a great deal better this morning. If you’ll excuse me for a minute, sir, I’ll send for the doctor.”
The man quietly left the room, was absent for a minute or two, and then as quietly returned.
“Where am I?” I again inquired.
“You’re in the military hospital at Up-park camp, sir,” he replied. “But if you’ll excuse me, I think you’d better not talk much just yet; the doctor will be here directly, and he’ll tell you all you want to know.”
Some twenty minutes elapsed, and then the door once more opened, admitting a rather tall handsome man dressed entirely in white nankeen, with white canvas shoes on his feet.
He came up to the side of the bed, and, before saying a word, put his cool fingers upon my pulse. He then laid his hand upon my forehead for a minute or two and upon the top of my head.