“He is in a kind of stupor now,” he said. “His trouble has overcome him. I will come again in an hour.”
Toward noon he returned, and gave the prisoner something stimulating. Carlos looked up; a flash of intelligence passed across his face.
“Ah,” he said, “you are the gentleman that gave me advice this morning. What are you doing here now?”
“I am a physician,” replied Dr. Davison. “In that capacity I am your friend. How do you feel?”
“I scarcely know. My head seems confused. I can hardly think.”
“But it will be necessary for you to think. You are now ill. You have some fever, and are discouraged. But, with the help of my medicine and your own resolution, you must be aroused. You are resting under a grave charge. It is not for me to say whether you are guilty or innocent——”
“IT IS NOT FOR ME TO SAY WHETHER YOU ARE GUILTY OR INNOCENT.”
“Before God, I am innocent!” exclaimed Carlos. “I can explain——”
“Yes; but you must not explain now. Do not say anything to me. I don’t want to have to repeat words in court that may damage you. You must employ a lawyer, and a good one. Pardon me, but I feel an interest in you. You don’t look like a ruffian.”