g in the form of dull
light which does enable a person to see his hand before him; but the
blackness around, when Archibald Raystoke began to come back to his
senses, would have left pitch far behind as to depth of tint.

His head ached, and there was a feeling in it suggestive of the contents
having been turned into brain-fritters in a pan--fritters which had
bubbled and turned brown, and then been burned till they were quite
black.

He opened his eyes, and then put his hands up to feel if they were open.

They were undoubtedly, and he hurt them in making the test, for he half
fancied, and he had a confused notion, that a great handkerchief had
been tied over them. But though they were undoubtedly open he could not
see. In fact, when he closed them, strange as it may sound, he felt as
if he could see better, for there were a number of little spots of light
sailing up and down and round and round, like the tiny sparks seen in
tinder before the fire which has consumed is quite extinct.

He lay still, not thinking but trying to think, for his mind was in the
condition described by the little girl who, suffering from a cold, said,
"Please, ma, one side of my nose won't go."

Archy Raystoke's mind would not go, and for a long time he lay
motionless.

His memory began to work again in his back, for he gradually became
conscious of feeling something there, and after suffering the
inconvenience for a long time, he thrust his hand under his spine and
drew out a piece of iron, sharp-edged and round like a hoop.

He felt better after that, and fell to wondering why he had brought his
little hoop to bed with him, and also how it was that his little hoop,
which he used to trundle, had become iron instead of wood.

The exertion of moving the hoop made him wince, for his back was sore
and his arms felt strained as if he had been beaten.

His mind began "to go" a little more, and he had to turn back mentally;
but he could not do that, so he made an effort to go forward, and
wondered how soon it would be morning, and the window curtains at the
foot of the bed would show streaks of sunshine between.

Time passed on and he still lay perfectly quiet, for he did not feel the
slightest inclination to move after his late efforts, which had produced
a sensation of the interior of his skull beginning to bubble up with
fire or hot lead rolling about. But as that pain declined he felt cold,
and after a great deal of hesitation he s