At the other side of the room Gibbs and Dr. Anderson were speaking together in whispers. Gibbs was giving the physician the particulars of the accident. Presently the general went softly from the room to find Andrew, whom he wished to send with a message to his Julia. He was only gone for a moment; and came stealing back on tiptoe. He had been all but drunk earlier in the evening; but he was perfectly sober now. He crept to the bedside, for he did not know whether Benson slept or not. When he saw that he was awake, he asked huskily.
“How do you feel now, Jake—some better?”
“I am resting very well, Gibbs; but you had better go to bed, you look worn out.”
“No, no—I am doing very well. Don't you worry about me. I've just sent my Julia word of what's happened, so she'll understand why I won't be home to-night.”
“I hope you didn't unnecessarily alarm her,” said Benson with concern.
“No, I told her it was nothing serious, but that I didn't like to leave you; though you'd be in the best of hands, with Steve and the doctor here, if I did.”
Benson closed his eyes, and seemed to sleep; and presently Stephen left his side and drew Gibbs out into the hall.
“What does Dr. Anderson say, general?” he asked.
“Come further away from the door,” said Gibbs. “I'm afraid he'll hear us and be disturbed;” and he led the way down the hall. Stephen saw that the air of confidence with which he had borne himself in the sick-room had quite left him now that they were alone together. “Well, the doctor don't say much,” said Gibbs, sinking his voice to a whisper.
“But he hasn't given you to understand that he fears any serious consequences from the fall?” said Stephen anxiously. “Of course, any severe shock at his age would be more or less serious.”