“That’s right. Lie quietly where you are, and after a while you will go to bed and have a good night’s rest, and will wake up strong in the morning.”
“Oh, yes,” said he, “I shall be all right in the morning.” But, opening his eyes wide, he began to stare around the room. “Where am I? This is not my room,” said he, with rather a wild look; and he tried to rise on his elbow, but fell back with an expression of pain on his face, closed his eyes, and lay motionless for a little while. Presently he opened them again. “I don’t know this room!” And his eyes ranged up and down and from face to face with a sort of glare. Mrs. Carter gave us an anxious look. She arose, and, drawing her chair alongside the bed, began passing her fingers through his hair. Immediately the wild look passed out of his eyes, and his face was suffused with a smile of infantile sweetness.
“You must keep quiet,” said Mrs. Carter.
“Yes,” said he, simply.
Suddenly he started up with staring eyes, and cried out, “There they come! There they come! Molly! Take Laura! Molly! Quick! Quick! Get out of the way! Ah! I missed ’em!” and he fell back with a groan.
Just then the doctor entered. Mrs. Carter touched her head.
“That’s nothing!” replied the doctor, in a cheery voice. He was a large man, with a large head, covered not so much with auburn hair as with a tawny mane. His face, too, was leonine in its strength, and his step light and springy; and he came into a sick-room with an air which seemed to say that when he entered by the door disease had to fly out by the way of the window, or else he would know the reason why. He walked straight up to the sufferer and placed his hand upon his forehead. The Don gave him a perplexed look, which passed away, however, when the doctor began to feel his pulse. The firm and confident look of the doctor seemed to give the patient control of his faculties.
“Your head aches?”
“Badly.”
“Of course. Any pain elsewhere?”