"Just what I tell him," said the matron, cheerfully, for she knew the value of cheerfulness on the spirits of a patient. "If he makes up his mind to it, he'll soon be about again."
"It's astonishing what we can do when we set our teeth hard, and go for a thing," continued Paul, adopting her cheerful tone and manner.
"That's what you did when you came to me and saved my life. Oh, Percival, it was terrible!"
And the thin hand went to the eyes with a gesture of pain.
"Terrible! Hooking you out of that river? That's what I call beastly ingratitude. I think it's one of the best things I ever did in my life."
"No, no," cried the boy quickly; "don't think me ungrateful. I couldn't bear that. You don't think me ungrateful?"
"Of course not. It's only my stupid way of putting things. All you've got to do now is to forget about the river, and everything connected with it. You're now on dry land—in a nice, warm, comfortable bed, where you needn't trouble about anything except getting well again."
"Are the other fellows all right—Plunger and Moncrief, I mean?"
"Right? Rather! Going stronger than ever, especially Plunger."
"I'm glad of that. And—and the savages. Who were they?" asked Hibbert, with a shudder.