e above to me
rapidly, for one of these sentences was whispered very slowly now and
then as I lay back feeling not much pain, but hot and feverish, and this
change was noticed soon after by Mr Raydon when he came into the room.

"You have been letting him talk," he said, angrily, as soon as he had
taken my hand.

"That I ain't, sir," cried Esau, indignantly. "Never let him speak a
word."

"That's right. He must be kept very still," said our friend, and he
hurriedly left the room.

"Rather hard on a chap when he has been so particular," grumbled Esau.
"Well, it was my doing, so I mustn't mind."

He was still grumbling when our host re-entered with something in a cup
which he gave me a little at a time, so that I should not have to move,
and soon after he had left me my eyelids grew heavy, and I fell into a
deep sleep, which lasted till it was growing dark, and I could only just
make out Esau's head as he sat watching by my bed.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

IN THE SPRING.

Ask anybody what is the most delicious thing in life, and see what he or
she will say. I do not believe any one will tell you what I do now. It
is to have been dangerously ill, to be brought down very weak, to be
getting better, and then to be carried or led out to sit in the sunshine
of some bright genial morning.

Ah! that long breath of sweet life-inspiring air--those trees--those
flowers--the blue sky--the bark of that dog--those kindly words of
inquiry--that all-round feeling of joy and delight at being out there
once more; the sensation which will bring the weak tears in your eyes
for the simple reason that you are so happy. Yes, it is a pleasant
thing to have been very ill, if only for the sake of the thankful
sensation that comes the first time you go out once more in the bright
sunshine.

How delightful it was, and what a long weary dream of misery I had
passed through! I hardly knew even then how bad I had been. When I
spoke to Esau he used to screw his face up full of wrinkles, and shake
his head, while Mr Raydon was as reticent.

"Never mind that," he would say; "you are better now."

I learned later though, that for several months he had been in great
doubt of my recovery. My wound would not heal, consequent upon a ragged
fragment of the rifle-bullet remaining beneath a bone, and when at last
it did come away, I was weak in the extreme, and, as Esau said, "You
couldn't get a doctor when you liked out there."

So the