“It was the day before yesterday zat it happened.”
“God bless me! I must have been insensible ever since. That means concussion of the brain. Am I much damaged otherwise, do you know?”
“Pretty well. Your left shoulder is dislocated, one of your fingers and two of your ribs broken, and one of your ankles severely contused. But it might have been worse. If you had not thrown yourself from your horse, as you did, you would just now be in a coffin instead of in this comfortable bed.”
“Somebody saw me, then?”
“Yes, the lodge-keeper. He thought you were dead, and came up and told us; and we brought you here on a stretcher, and the Señor Coronel sent for a doctor—”
“The Señor Coronel! Do you mean Mr. Fortescue?”
“Yes, sir, I mean Mr. Fortescue.”
“Then you are Ramon?”
“Hijo de Dios! You know my name.”
“Yes, you are Mr. Fortescue’s body-servant.”