For a long while I pondered this. Then into my mind came another and inevitable question: What had I said in my delirium?
I was hungry when Nick came.
"Well," says he, grinning at me, "our Continental saw-bones permits this fat wild pigeon. And now I hope I shall have no more cursing to endure."
Tears came into my eyes and I held out my hand. It was blanched white, and bony, and lay oddly in his great, brown paw.
"Lord," says he, "what a fright you have given us, John, what with coughing all day and night like a sick bullock——"
"I am mending, Nick."
"So says Major Squills. Here, lad, eat thy pigeon. Does it smack? And here is a little Spanish wine in this glass to nourish you. I had three bottles of the Continentals ere they marched——"
"Marched! Have they departed?" I demanded in astonishment.
"Horse, foot, and baggage," said he cheerily. "When I say 'horse,' I mean young Jack-boots, for he departed first with the flag that took my Lady Johnson to New York."
"So everybody has gone," said I, blankly.