"You have in reality a bad ankle, the doctor says, and he is inclined to give you the benefit of the doubt," he said, "and so am I. At any rate, we will not treat you badly, though we may be forced to keep you as a guest for a little while."
I thanked him for his gracious consideration.
"We are compelled to keep you locked in to-night," he continued, "but we may be able to do better for you in the morning."
"Very well," I said, with some impatience. "Keep me locked in if you choose, but at any rate let me sleep."
I thought his rough treatment of me offset the favor I had owed him. Moreover, I was very tired and sleepy, and the obligation of politeness seemed to rest upon me no longer.
The doctor folded his notes and handed them to the colonel, who placed them carefully in an inside pocket. Then they bowed stiffly, and went out, locking the door as usual.
I looked out through my window. The moon was rising above the mountains. In the valley the foliage was tipped with silver. The bubbles on the river, fire-color at set of sun, had turned to silver now. Nothing seemed to stir; all was peace.
Wondering what would be the end of my strange adventure, I lay down on the bed, and in five minutes forgot wonder and all other things in a deep sleep.
I might have slept all the next day too, but I was awakened by a good shaking at the hands of Crothers, and found the room full of light. Crothers was standing beside me. He was a sour-faced fellow, but he seemed to be less hostile that morning, and I asked him cheerfully if he was going to bring me my breakfast. He said no, but told me I was invited to the colonel's own table.
"It's Miss Grace who did it," he said. "She didn't think the colonel was treating you just right."