“I was in the room. I heard him tell the general that I was to come for you.”
Stephen quickened his pace. He asked no more questions.
When they reached the house, he left the man in the lower hall, and hurried up to Benson's room. Here he found Gibbs and Dr. Anderson, who had preceded him by some minutes, and had already finished his examination of the injured man. Stephen went at once to the bedside, Gibbs giving place to him.
“This is too bad, Uncle Jake,” he said cheerily. “I am more sorry than I can say.”
Benson turned slightly on his pillow, and regarded the young fellow with a look of wistful affection.
“You will not go away again, Stephen,” he said in a voice that was raised scarcely above a whisper.
Stephen was shocked at the change he saw in him. The hale vigorous man seemed to have shrunk and dwindled appallingly. He moved a chair to the bedside and seated himself.
“Dr. Anderson says it's nothing but the sudden jar and shock. That he'll be all right in the morning;” it was Gibbs who spoke.
“Of course he will,” said Stephen heartily.
“I hope so,” said Benson drily. Then he lay back without speech or movement, but his glance was fixed yearningly on Stephen's face.