“Not nearly,” he said. It was an immensely comforting statement to me. “Go to sleep again, kiddie.” And I went obediently.
He was there the next time I awoke, but it was morning this time. They told me afterwards that for three days and nights he scarcely ever left my side, sitting just where I could see him if my eyes opened. No one could ever guess how beautiful it was to see him there. I grew to wondering would he still be there, before my heavy lids lifted: to be almost afraid to lift them, in case he should have gone away. But always his smile was ready for me, and I would drift away to sleep again, trying to smile back.
Then one day I woke up with my brain quite clear, and the desire for sleep all gone. Colin put his fingers on my wrist, and I lay watching a little ray of sunlight that crept in by the blind and fell across his crisp hair. He did not take his eyes from me, but spoke to some one I could not see.
“All right,” he said quietly. “Come along and say good morning to her, Madge.”
Madge came—which also seemed a most natural thing. She kissed me very gently and stood back with her hand on Colin’s shoulder, and I grinned foolishly at them both.
“I’ve had a tremendous sleep,” I said, “and all sorts of queer dreams. And I’m ever so hungry!”
“That’s much better to think about than the dreams,” said Colin. He put out a long arm and mysteriously produced some jelly, with which he fed me like a baby. It was wonderfully good, and I ate six spoonfuls, and then discovered that I wasn’t as hungry as I had thought. So I went to sleep again, holding a hand of each.
It was quite a long while before they would let me talk about what had happened in the library. They thought I did not remember much about it at first, which was quite wrong: I remembered everything until the stunning blow that put me out of action. But I did not know what I dared ask. You see, I had never seen the thief’s face clearly, but his height and build were the same as Ronald Hull’s. In my mind, as I lay finding my strength again, I was quite sure that that estimable gentleman had returned to pick up a little more loot.
Judy and Jack were safe—I knew that, because they came and peeped at me every day and brought me flowers. And Julia also: she swept and polished my room, and showed much hatred and jealousy of the stern little trained nurse who wouldn’t let her do the dusting. But when I asked feebly for Mrs. McNab they told me she was still too ill to get up; the shock of the attempted robbery at The Towers had evidently made her worse. So I held my peace as best I could, outwardly, though in my mind I ached to know if Ronald Hull were the individual I had so heartily battered with the poker. If so—well, I trembled for Mrs. McNab, but I was glad I had done the battering.
Then, one day, Mrs. McNab came in, in her dressing-gown, looking like a tall ghost: and Colin slipped out and left us alone. She kissed me and sat down by my bed.