Perhaps I came to again--I don't know; for it may have been a dream that
the old gentleman came softly back and dabbed my head gently with a
towel, and that the towel was stained with blood.
Of course it was a dream that I was out in the East with my father, who
was not hurt in the skirmish, but it was I who received the wound, which
bled a good deal; and somehow I seemed to have been hurt in the
shoulder, which ached and felt strained and wrenched. But all became
blank again and I lay some time asleep.
When I opened my eyes again I found that I was being hurt a good deal by
the doctor, who was seeing to my injuries. Old Brownsmith and Ike were
both in the room, and I could see Shock peeping round the big arbor
vitae outside the window to see what was going on.
The doctor was holding a glass to my lips, while Old Brownsmith raised
me up.
"Drink that, my boy," said the doctor. "That's the way!--capital! isn't
it?"
I shuddered and looked up at him reproachfully, for the stuff he had
given me to drink tasted like a mixture of soap and smelling-salts; and
I said so.
"Good description of the volatile alkali, my lad," he said, laughing.
"There!--you'll soon be all right. I've strapped up your wound."
"My wound, sir!" I said, wonderingly.
"To be sure; didn't you know that you had a cut upon your forehead?"
I shook my head, but stopped, for it made the room seem to turn round.
"You need not mind," he continued, taking my hand. "It isn't so deep as
a well nor so wide as a church-door, as somebody once said. You don't
know who it was?"
"Shakespeare, sir," I said, rather drowsily.
"Bravo, young market-gardener!" he cried, laughing. "Oh! you're not
very bad. Now, then, what are you going to do--lie still here and be
nursed by Mr Brownsmith's maid, or get up and bear it like a man--try
the fresh air?"
"I'm going to get up, sir," I said quickly; and throwing my legs off the
sofa I stood up; but I had to stretch out my arms, for the room-walls
seemed to run by me, the floor to rise up, and I should have fallen if
the doctor had not taken my arm, giving me such pain that I cried out,
and the giddiness passed off, but only came back with more intensity.
He pressed me back gently and laid me upon the sofa.
"Where did I hurt you, my boy?" he said.
"My shoulder," I replied faintly.
"Ah! another injury!" he exclaimed. "I did not know of this. Tendon a
bit wrenched," he muttered as he felt me firmly but gently, giving me a
good deal of pain, which I tried hard to bear without showing it, though
the twitching of my face betrayed me. "You had better lie still a
little while, my man. You'll soon be better."