The figures moved across the room and darkened the square of the casement. Trevor laid very still; perhaps they would go away again if he feigned sleep. He could hear them conversing softly, but couldn’t distinguish their words because—because there was such a noise outside! What was it? He could hear shouting and sometimes the blare of a band. It must be at the front of the hotel. St. Eustace was celebrating her victory probably, and Hillton’s defeat! He groaned and tossed an arm despairingly. One of the figures turned and walked toward him.
“Awake, Trevor?”
It was Dick’s voice. For a moment Trevor was silent; then he answered with a sigh:
“Yes.”
The second figure came and leaned over him and he saw that it was Kirk.
“How are you feeling now, chum?” asked Dick, with all the old affection in his voice. Trevor felt his eyes growing moist, and he had to gulp twice before he could answer.
“All right, Dick; I think I can get up now.”
“Get up! Indeed, you’ll not. You’re to stay here to-night, and I’m going to stay with you. The others are getting ready to go back now; can you hear them?”
“Let’s see what the boy looks like,” said Kirk. “I’ll light the gas and give him his medicine.”
“Don’t, please don’t!” cried Trevor. It was all so much easier in the darkness.