Kitabı oku: «Jungle and Stream: or, The Adventures of Two Boys in Siam», sayfa 9

That beetle took up a great deal of Harry's attention, for all was so still that when it crawled up into the thatching, holding on by its hooked legs, the rustle and scratching could be plainly heard. But at last the sound seemed to be distant, while, strangely enough, the beetle gradually appeared as if it were swelling out to a gigantic size, but grew hazy and undefined, and was apparently about to die out as if into mist, when Harry started and saw that it was just the rounded, stumpy, coppery green insect again, and he knew that he had been asleep and was startled into wakefulness by some sound close at hand.

Voices, and then the rippling of water, and as he lay perfectly still upon his back he knew that a boat was coming abreast of the landing-place and a man was talking in a haughty, contemptuous way, as if in answer to some question that had been asked.

"That Feringhee dog the King favours; he was the beginning of the swarm that invaded the country."

"Never mind," said another voice; "don't be angry: it will soon come to an end."

"The sooner the better. I am sick of all this. A mad king makes mad people who will not sit still and see their country ruined by his follies. What whim will he have next?"

"Who knows? There is always some case or another coming by one of the unbelievers' ships. I believe they send their diseases and sicknesses here to kill our people, so that they may come and take the country. It is all wrong. What a beautiful place that man has here!"

"Hist! don't talk."

"Why not? I do not mind who hears. I would say what I do even before our foolish king."

"Be silent; there are people lying asleep on that landing-place, and they might hear."

One of them did hear – plainly enough, for in still weather water has a wonderful power for conveying sounds along its surface. These words were spoken in the native dialect, but every word was clear to the involuntary listener, for the language was almost as familiar to Harry as his own.

The words jarred upon him. What did they mean? The speakers from their tone were evidently people who hated the English colonists, and an intense desire to see whether they were people whom he knew animated the boy with the disposition to start up and look. But on second thoughts he felt that it might be better for them if they appeared to be asleep, especially as Phra was the King's son.

But once more the desire to see who it was grew strong in Harry's breast, and as the light splashing of the oars grew less plain he slowly turned his head till he could open one eye and gaze over the surface of the river.

He was too late; there was nothing in sight but the boats moored to the farther bank.

"I could see them from the far end of the garden, though," he thought; and rolling himself gently over three or four times, so as not to awaken Phra, he reached the bridge-like way off the stage into the garden, where he rose to his feet and keeping in shelter of the flowering shrubs which had been abundantly planted, he made for the corner of the garden higher up the stream, for the slow progress of the boat in passing showed that the people, whoever they were, had gone in that direction.

Harry had little difficulty in getting to the boundary of his father's grounds, keeping well under cover, though it was hot work hurrying along in a stooping position. But when he raised his head cautiously and peered over the river, the result was disappointing.

There was the boat certainly, going on against tide, propelled by a couple of stout rowers; and it was evidently the boat of some one well to do, for the rowers were dressed alike. As to the occupants of the central part beneath the awning, they were partly hidden by the uprights which supported the light roof shelter, and their backs were towards him. They were richly dressed, but though the boy watched till the boat passed out of sight beyond a curve they did not turn their heads once.

Harry returned to the landing-stage, feeling troubled and thoughtful. He was asking himself whether he should tell Phra what he had heard, and a feeling of shrinking from making his companion uncomfortable had almost fixed him in his determination to say nothing until he had told his father.

But Phra's action altered all this.

For just as he was about to set foot upon the stage, Phra leaped up and began to rub his ear frantically.

"What did you do that for?" he cried fiercely.

"Do what?" said Harry, laughing at the boy's antics.

"You put that nasty little beetle in my ear."

"I didn't," cried Harry, bursting into a roar of laughter.

"Yes, you did. There it is," cried Phra angrily, as he stamped upon and crushed a little round insect about the size of the smaller lady-bird. "Tickle, tickle, tickle! Why, if I hadn't woke up, the horrible little creature might have eaten its way into my brains, and killed me."

"Nonsense! nothing would do that."

"Well, you had no business to play such silly boys' tricks. It's enough to make me hit you. Yes, you can laugh at me; but if I were regularly angry, you would be ready to run."

"Run away?" said Harry merrily.

"Yes, run away."

"Oh yes, and never come back again. You frighten me horribly."

"You're mocking at me, but I tell you it was very cowardly and stupid."

"No, it was not; for I did not do it, my boy."

"What? why, I woke up and caught you just as you were going to run away."

"No, I was coming back."

"Oh, Hal! that's what you call a cracker, and that's more cowardly still. When I went to sleep you were lying down beside me, and when I woke up you were standing over there."

"That's right," said Harry.

"And when you woke up you felt mischievous, and caught that little beetle to put in my ear."

"That's wrong," said Harry sturdily.

"Why, I felt it directly it was in; and you must have done it."

"Oh, of course, because beetles have no legs to crawl, and no wings to fly, and you weren't lying ear upward so that it could drop in off the roof."

"You may argue as long as you like, and as I was asleep, of course I couldn't quite tell how you did it; but there's the beetle. See?"

"Oh yes, I can see," said Harry thoughtfully; "but I didn't put it there. It got into your ear while I was away."

"Oh, Hal!"

"And oh, Phra!"

"To say you were coming back when you were just going to slip away!"

"Wasn't going to slip away. I tell you I was coming back."

"I don't believe you."

"Very well," said Harry; "don't."

"I – I mean, I beg your pardon, Hal."

There was no reply.

"Tell me why you went away," said Phra, who felt that he had gone too far.

"It's of no use. You will not believe me," said Harry, taking out his knife and beginning to carve his initials on one of the big bamboos.

"Yes, I will!" cried Phra. "I daresay I was wrong. I was cross with being woke up like that, and I felt sure you had done it."

"And you feel sure now," said Harry coldly.

"No, not sure," said Phra frankly, "only doubtful."

"Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself for feeling so. It's not as if I were a Siamese fellow – they say anything. An English boy doesn't like to be doubted."

"Beg your pardon, Hal – so sorry," said Phra penitently. "Shake hands."

"Not I," said Harry stiffly. "I'm not going to shake hands with a chap who doesn't believe my word."

"Hal!" cried Phra, with a pleading look in his eyes.

"We'd better not be friends any more; and you'd better go away and have nothing more to do with us English people."

"Why? What makes you say that?"

Harry was silent, and stood frowning there, hacking at the bamboo; but the quick-witted Siamese lad seemed to grasp the idea that there was something more behind the fit of annoyance, and began to press his companion. And the more silent and mysterious Harry proved to be, the more he pressed.

For a time he obtained nothing but mysterious hints and bitter words about things not being as they should be, and at last the boy said angrily, —

"Look here, Hal, I'm sure you are hiding something. I woke up and saw you there, and I felt sure you had been playing some trick. You know you often do."

"Yes, often," said Harry quietly.

"Then you told me you had not, and I begged your pardon for saying things when I was cross. I know you well enough now; you can't keep up anything of that sort – you get in a temper sometimes, but it's all over soon and you shake hands, or even if you don't, it's soon all right again and forgotten: but now you keep on talking about our not being friends any more, and I'm sure there's something the matter. Now, isn't there?"

Harry nodded and looked gloomy as he went on cutting in the hard wood, and spoiled the shape of the K he was carving.

"What is it, then? Why don't you tell me?"

"Don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Then it's something serious?"

Harry nodded again.

"You're not going away, Hal?" cried Phra excitedly.

"It seems as if we'd better," said Harry gloomily.

"No, that you shan't!" cried Phra angrily. "Who says that? I know; it's your father's offended about something. But I won't have it."

Harry smiled.

"You're not king," he said.

"No, but I shall be some day, and till I am, my father will let me have anything I like, so long as it's wise and good. It's quite right for you and your father to stay here, for it's doing you both good, and us too. Father said only the other night that it was a grand thing for the country to have wise Englishmen here to instruct us in everything."

"Do you think so, Phra?"

"Of course I do. Why, look at last year, when that dreadful plague came and the people were dying so fast till Doctor Cameron made them keep the sick people to themselves, and had their clothes and things burnt. Father always says he stopped it from going any further. It's so with everything, if people would only learn."

"But they don't like us," said Harry.

"The sensible ones do. It's only the silly, obstinate, old-fashioned folk who like to go on always in the same way, and who think that they know everything and that there's nothing more to be learnt. Here's something you never heard. Some of the other king's people put it about last year that father was making poisons in his room so as to kill the people."

"Oh yes, I know it," said Harry bitterly.

"And they say the bad diseases come in the cases father has from England. I daresay they'll think that there's another plague come in our case with the cricket bats and balls."

"They do say so," said Harry.

"How do you know?" cried Phra sharply.

"Heard 'em."

"When?"

"Just now, when you were asleep."

"Hah! Then that's it!" cried Phra; and it all came out.

The Siamese lad heard his companion to the end with a look of haughty contempt which made him look years older, and when he had finished he said slowly, —

"Poor silly idiots! Those are the sort of people who would say that a blowpipe was better than a rifle. What does it matter?"

"Matter? Why, it is bad for you and your father to be friendly with such people as we are."

"How absurd!" cried Phra. "The weak, silly, ignorant people are so stupid about things they do not understand."

"But these were not common, ignorant people, but noblemen."

"Very likely," said Phra, with a shrug of his shoulders. "It is as father says: many of the old noblemen of the other king's party are too proud to learn anything, and they pretend to believe he deals in magic and is mad."

"Yes, that's how they talked," said Harry.

"Well, let them talk. I'm glad my father is so mad as he is, and wants to learn all about the wonders of the world, and to get me to learn them too. And I do like it, Hal; I'm ever so fond of learning about all these strange things. Of course I like playing games, too, and even your games that you teach us are wonderful and clever. Pooh! let the silly people talk till they learn to know better."

"But these men in the boat spoke threateningly of it all having an end, just as if they meant to attack the King and drive us all away."

"Bah!" ejaculated the lad. "Attack my father? Pooh! they dare not. He's as gentle and kind as any one can be, but he can be angry too, and when he is, he is very fierce and stern. He won't believe that any one would dare to attack him. I don't believe it either."

"But if you had heard those two men talk?"

"Well, then I should have heard two men talk, that's all. What is talking? A mere nothing."

"But suppose they were to begin to act?" said Harry, who was looking at his friend admiringly.

"What do you mean – fight?"

"Yes."

"I hope they will not," said Phra rather sadly, "because it would be so terrible. They would fight because they don't know better, and they will not learn. But they would learn then when it was too late."

"What would happen?"

"A number of foolish people would be killed, and when those who began the trouble were caught – "

"Yes?" said Harry, for Phra had ceased speaking; "what would happen then?"

"They would have to die, too, and it seems horrible when the great world is so beautiful and people might be happy."

"Think the King would have them executed?"

"Of course. He is all that is good and kind to everybody now, but if the people rose against him, he would say, 'Poor blind, foolish creatures! I must forgive them, for they don't know better; but the leaders must suffer for leading them into sin.'"

"And their heads would be chopped off?"

"Certainly," said Phra coldly. "It would be for every one's good. But don't look like that, Hal; we can't help the stupid people talking foolishly. It does not matter to us."

"But it does," said Harry. "It makes me think that we ought not to stay."

"Nonsense!" cried Phra.

"Are you going to tell your father what the people are saying?"

"No; why should I?"

"I think he ought to know," said Harry.

"I daresay he does know how people talk, but it does not trouble him. They are foolish people who do not know he is the best king we have ever had. Let them talk. There, I am going home now. You keep the football."

CHAPTER XI
THE NAGA'S BITE

Phra had not been gone long before Mr. Kenyon returned from his business down in the port, and in reply to his question, "Anything fresh happened, my boy?" Harry told him what he had heard, watching his father's face intently the while.

"Then you think it is very serious, father?" said Harry.

"Do I, Hal? What makes you say that?"

"You look anxious about it."

"I was not aware that you were studying my face," said Mr. Kenyon, smiling. "Well, it is serious news, and it is not serious, if you can understand that. The words you heard were those of dissatisfied folk, and these exist everywhere. Of course I have long known that the common, ignorant people resent our being here a good deal, especially the followers of the second king, as they call him; but most of the people like us, and I find that they are very eager to deal with me in business, trusting me largely with their goods, and quite content to wait till I choose to pay them. That looks as if we have a good character. Then, as regards our treatment in the place, you have never found any one insulting or offensive to you."

"No, father; every one is smiling and pleasant."

"Of course. You need not trouble yourself about the disagreeable remarks of a couple of malcontents."

These words cheered Harry, whose young imagination had been piling up horrors to come for the dwellers at the palace and the English people who were near.

Two days later, when he was a little higher up the river, a pleasant, musical voice saluted him from the other side of a hedge.

"What! going by without calling? For shame!"

Harry turned through a gate and down a path to where a lady was seated busy over some kind of needlework under a shady tree.

There was something so pleasant in her smile of welcome that the boy eagerly caught at her extended hand, before taking the chair that was pointed out.

"But that's the doctor's," he said.

"Yes, but he is down the river in his boat, seeing some of his patients. Have some fruit, Harry. All that basketful was sent us this morning by one of Duncan's patients."

"How nice! May I take that mangosteen?"

"Take all," said Mrs. Cameron, for she it was. "The people are never tired of sending us great pines and melons. They are so nice and grateful for everything my husband does for them. I used to think it would be very dreadful to come out here amongst all the strange, half-savage people, as I expected they would be."

"But they are not savage," said Harry.

"Savage? No. They are as gentle and nice as can be. They seem to be more afraid of us than we are of them."

Harry feasted his eyes upon the sweet face and form of the graceful English lady, and the sight seemed to bring up something misty and undefined of some one who used to lean over his little bed at night to press her warm lips upon his face, which was brushed by her long, fair hair.

It was a pleasant feeling, but sad as well, for the few moments that the memory stayed.

Then he had to answer questions as to why he had not brought his friend with him, of the games he had been playing, about his excursions; and he was in the midst of his answers when a quick step was heard, and Mrs. Cameron sprang up.

"Here is Duncan," she cried.

"Hullo, Hal!" cried the doctor, entering; "here you are, then! Where's the Prince?"

"He has not been down to-day."

"Oh, then that is why we are honoured with a visit, is it?"

"I – I was not coming to see you to-day, was I, Mrs. Cameron?" said

Harry, colouring.

"No, that is a fact," said the lady. "He was going right by, but I called him in."

"Ah, well, we will forgive you. Stop and have tea with us."

Harry's acceptation showed that he was only too glad, and after the pleasant meal in the verandah, there was an interesting hour to be spent in the doctor's curious compound of surgery, study, and museum, where plenty of fresh insects had to be examined.

Mrs. Cameron displaying a bright, girl-like interest in everything, till called away to give some instructions to her servants.

"How Mrs. Cameron must help you, Doctor!" said Harry. "I did not know that she was so clever at pinning out moths."

"Look here," said the doctor sternly, "have you been saying anything to her about what you told your father you heard said in that boat?"

"Not a word, sir."

"That's right. I'm glad of it; but I was afraid."

"Oh, I shouldn't have thought of telling her."

"I'm glad you have so much discretion, my boy. You see, ladies are easily made nervous; and if my wife had heard all that, she would have been fidgeting about it every time I was away, and of course that is very often."

"You don't think there is any danger, do you?"

"Not the slightest, my boy; the people are all too friendly. It is only a few discontented humbugs who are old-fashioned and object to the King's ways."

"That is what my father says," said Harry.

"And that is what I say, so let's think no more about it."

"There's Phra," cried Harry, starting up, as a long-drawn whistle was heard.

Harry ran out, and was going down to the gate, passing Mrs. Cameron, who was walking back to her seat under the tree; but all of a sudden she stopped short, tottered as if about to fall, and then stood there with a ghastly face as white as her dress.

It was a mere glimpse that the boy obtained, but it was enough to check his hurried race for the gate.

Something was wrong, he could not tell what; but the doctor's wife was evidently in sore trouble, and he turned to go to her help.

"What is the matter, Mrs. Cameron?" he cried; but she made no reply. It was as if she had not heard him speak, and with head averted she stood looking to the left in a singularly strained attitude, like one striving to escape from something horrible, but whose feet were held to the ground.

In his excitement Harry ran round before her and caught her hand in his, to find it icily cold; but she only uttered a gasping sound, and still stared horribly and with convulsed face down to her left.

Very few moments had elapsed from the boy's first taking alarm till he now turned wonderingly to his right to follow the direction of Mrs. Cameron's eyes, and then a horrible chill ran through him, and he felt paralysed and helpless, for there, not six feet away, raised up on the lower part of its body, was one of the most deadly serpents in the world, its grey brown marked scales glistening as it played about in a wavy, undulatory fashion, its so-called hood spread out showing the spectacle-like markings, and its flattened head turned down at right angles to the neck, with the forked tongue playing and flickering in and out through the little opening in its jaws.

The lower part of the creature was partly hidden by the flowers on a dry bed, but the anterior portion rose fully three feet above the plants, and the creature swung itself about and rose and sank as if preparing for a spring upon the fascinated woman; for either from horror or some occult power on the part of the deadly reptile, Mrs. Cameron was perfectly helpless, and promised to be an easy victim to the cobra when it struck.

But Harry's stunned sensation of horror did not last; he stepped back for a moment or two, looking sharply about for a weapon, but looked in vain, for there was nothing near but a small bamboo stool.

It was better than nothing. He caught it up by one leg, and raising it above his shoulder he stepped quickly between Mrs. Cameron and her enemy, prepared to strike with all his might, while the cobra's eyes seemed to burn, and it drew back as if about to spring.

At that moment, released from the influence of the reptile by the interposition of Harry's body, the power of movement returned, and uttering a low, sobbing cry Mrs. Cameron sank slowly to her knees upon the ground, where she crouched, watching the movements of her champion, but not daring to look again at the serpent.

The sobbing cry behind him drew Harry's attention from his enemy for a moment, but only for that space of time. Then he was once more on guard, fully realizing the danger of his position, but so strung up by the emergency that he felt not the slightest fear.

Harry's was but a momentary glance back, but it was an opportunity for the enemy.

Quick as lightning it struck. There was the darting forward as of a spring set free, the stroke and the rebound, and as the reptile was about to strike again Harry delivered his blow, which crushed down the hissing creature with such effect that the next moment it had writhed itself out from among the plants, to lie clear to receive blow after blow from the stool, till the latter flew into fragments, while the cobra twined and twisted and tied itself into knots in its agony, close to the lad's feet.

He did not attempt to shrink away, only looked round for something else to seize as a weapon, and then he stared strangely at Mrs. Cameron, who had sprung up.

"Harry! What is it?" she cried hoarsely. "Did it bite you?"

"Don't know," he said, in a curious, husky voice. "I – I think so; but

I've killed it."

"But where? Show me where?" panted Mrs. Cameron wildly.

For answer Harry drew back the cuff from his right wrist, and held it up.

"There," he said.

Without a moment's hesitation Mrs. Cameron caught the lad's hand and arm and raised it to her lips, sucking the tiny puncture with all her power, and then, as she withdrew her lips for a moment, she shrieked out, —

"Duncan! Duncan! Help, help!" before placing her lips to the bite again.

"What's the matter?" cried Phra, running to them from the gate. "Mrs.

Cameron! Hal! What is it?"

"Snake," said Harry faintly, just as Phra caught sight of the writhing creature, struck at it, and watching his opportunity crushed its head into the ground with his heel, the reptile in its dying agonies twining tightly about his ankle and leg.

Mrs. Cameron took her lips from the wound again, and her lips parted to shriek once more; but her cries had been heard, and the doctor came running down to her side.

There was no need to ask questions – he saw what had happened at a glance, and the dangerous nature of the wound was told by the swollen shape of the snake's neck by Phra's boot.

"Once more," he said to his wife; "then let me."

As Mrs. Cameron pressed her lips to the wound, her husband snatched the thin silk neckerchief Harry wore from his neck, twisted it up into a cord, and tied it as tightly as he could round the lad's arm, just above the elbow-joint.

"Now let me come," he said sharply. "Run in, Mary; fetch basin, sponge, water, and the caustic bottle."

Mrs. Cameron was used to her husband's ways in emergencies, and resigning the patient to his hands she ran off to the house.

"Sit down here, Hal," said Cameron, "and keep a good heart, lad. I daresay we shall take it in time."

As he spoke he pressed the silent lad back into Mrs. Cameron's chair, snatched off the jacket, tore open the shirt-sleeve, and then drew out his pocket-book, from which he took a lancet.

With this he scarified the tiny wound, making it bleed freely, before placing his lips to it and trying to draw the poison away again and again, while Phra stood close by, his face of a livid hue, and making no offer of help on account of his position.

For the serpent was still twined tightly about his ankle and leg, and he felt sure that if he released the head from beneath his foot, the reptile would strike again.

By this time Mrs. Cameron was back with the various articles required, and she knelt down with the basin in her lap as the doctor took a little wide-mouthed bottle from her hand, removed the stopper, shook out a tiny stick of white, sugar-looking crystal, and after moistening the end, liberally used it in and about the mouth of the wound.

"Hurt you, my boy?" said Cameron sharply, as Harry lay back, with his eyes tightly closed.

"Horribly," was the reply. "Feels like red-hot iron."

"Do you good, boy. Act like a stimulus. Now, can you walk indoors?"

"I think so."

"One moment. You, Phra, run up and tell Mr. Kenyon to come here directly."

"No, no," cried Harry; "don't do that. It would frighten him."

"He must be told, Hal, my lad. Go, Phra."

The boy addressed pointed to his foot.

"If I let its head go, it will sting," he said.

"Oh, I see," said the doctor coolly, and taking a knife from his pocket, he opened it, bent down, and with one cut passed the knife blade through the cobra's neck, with the result that the long, lithe body was set free, as if it had been held in its place by the position of the head, and Phra's leg was released.

But he took his foot very cautiously off the head, which even then moved, as if still connected with the slowly writhing body, for the jaws opened and shut two or three times, the vitality in the creature being wonderful.

But Phra did not stay to see. He stepped quickly to Harry's side and caught his left hand, to hold it for a moment against his throbbing breast, and then ran off as hard as he could go.

Meanwhile, supported on either side by the doctor and his wife, Harry was led into the former's room, the boy looking rather wild and strange. Here he was seated upon a cane couch, while a draught of ammonia and water was prepared, and held to him to drink.

"Not thirsty," he said, shaking his head.

"Never mind; drink," cried the doctor, and the lad hastily tossed off the contents.

"Nice?" said the doctor, with a smile.

"Horrid; like soap and water," replied Harry. "May I go to sleep?"

"Yes, for a time, if you can."

"But I say, look here, Doctor; when father comes, don't let him be frightened. I'm not going to be very bad, am I?"

"I hope not, Hal. You see, we have taken it in time."

"That's right," said the boy, with a deep sigh, and he closed his eyes at once and let his head subside on the pillow, sinking at once into a kind of stupor, for it was not like sleep.

"Oh, Duncan," whispered Mrs. Cameron, as soon as she felt satisfied that the patient could not hear, "surely he will not die?"

"Not if I can help it, dear," he replied. "That was very brave of you to suck the wound. It may have saved his life."

"Poor, brave, darling boy!" she cried, bursting into a convulsive fit of sobbing, as she sank in her husband's arms, utterly giving way now. "He saved me from the horrible reptile, and was bitten himself."

"Ha! God bless him for it – and spare his life," added the doctor to himself – "that was it, then?"

"Yes, dear," sobbed Mrs. Cameron; "I was going back to take up my work when I heard a rustling sound among the flowers, and looking round I saw the horrible thing dancing and waving itself up and down as they do when a snake-charmer plays to them. I couldn't stir; I couldn't speak. I seemed to be suddenly made rigid; and then it was that Harry saw the state I was in, and came to my help."

"What did he do?" said the doctor, as he tried to calm his wife's hysterical sobs.

"Ran between me and the snake, and struck at it when it darted itself out. It would have bitten me, for it was gradually coming closer to me, and – and – and – oh, it was so dreadful, Duncan dear! I seemed to have no power to move. I knew that if I ran off I should be safe, but I could not stir, only wait as if fixed by the horrible creature's eyes – wait till it darted at and bit me."

"And Harry dashed in between you?"

"Yes, dear. He seized the little bamboo stool, and struck at it. Oh,

Duncan! Duncan! Don't let him die!"

"Let him die, my dear?" said the doctor, drawing in his breath. "Not if my poor knowledge can save him. But I have great hopes that your brave thoughtfulness will have had its effect. Now go and lie down a bit till you have grown calm. This terrible business has unhinged you."

"No, no, dear; let me stay."

"I dare not, my dear. You are weak and hysterical from the shock, and

I must keep the poor boy undisturbed."

"You may trust me, dear," said Mrs. Cameron; "I am better now. There, you see I am mastering my weakness. I will master it, and be quite calm, so as to help you to nurse him and make him well."

"May I trust you?"

"Yes, yes, dear."

"But suppose he is very, very bad?" whispered the doctor.

"I will be quite calm and helpful then. Afterwards I will not answer for myself."

"Then stay," said the doctor, who examined his patient as he lay there, looking strange and completely stupefied.