Somers, by the skilful applications of the physician, had been restored to consciousness, and had listened with astonishment, not unmingled with alarm, to the last part of the conversation between his friend and their host.
“I feel a little better, captain; at any rate, I am more comfortable,” replied Somers.
“I am glad to hear it. I have been terribly worried about you.”
“I think I shall do well enough. But what shall I say for myself?”
“Say nothing, Somers—not a word. Don’t commit yourself to anything.”
“What have you told him?”
“Nothing; and I don’t intend to tell him anything. He is a jolly old fellow, who thinks he is very eccentric, and takes pride in being considered so. When I was in the Crimea——”
“Never mind the Crimea now,” interrupted Somers with a languid smile.
“I was only going to say that I understand the old doctor first-rate, and can manage him as easily as I could an old plow-horse. Keep still, Somers; don’t let on, under any circumstances. Leave me to do all the talking.”
“But the cavalry are after us now.”