"No, you wouldn't, for you'd have to wait till the doctor took you off his list, and by that time you'd be quite back in your right senses."

"Robert d.i.c.kenson!" cried Roby, flushing scarlet, and his features growing convulsed.

"Yes, that's my name; but I'm not going to submit to a bullying from the doctor for exciting his patient. Good-bye. Make haste and get well. I can't stop here."

"Stay where you are," shouted Roby furiously. "Drew Lennox is-"

"My friend," muttered d.i.c.kenson, rushing out. "Poor fellow! I suppose he believes it; but he doesn't know how bad he is. It's queer. That idea regularly maddens him. Hullo! here's the boss."

"Ah, d.i.c.kenson, my lad! Been to cheer up Roby?"

"Yes, sir; I've been to cheer him up a bit," said d.i.c.kenson.

"That's right. Getting on nicely, isn't he?"

"Ye-es."

"What do you mean with your spun-out 'yes'?"

"I thought he seemed a little queer in the head yet."

"Oh yes, and that will last for a while, no doubt. But he's mending wonderfully, and I'm beginning to hope that there will be no need for the operation: nature is doing the work herself."

"That's right, sir," said d.i.c.kenson dryly. "I'd encourage her to go on."

The doctor smiled.

"Going to see Lennox?"

"If I may."

"Oh yes, you may go now. He's getting on too: picking up strength. Don't let him talk too much, and don't mention a word about that report of Roby's."

"Certainly not," said d.i.c.kenson; and the doctor pa.s.sing on, the young officer entered the next hut, to find his friend looking hollow-eyed and pulled down, the nerves at the corners of his eyes twitching as he slept.

d.i.c.kenson sat down upon a box watching him, and it was as if his presence there acted upon the patient, who, at the end of a few minutes, opened his eyes and smiled.

"How strange!" he said, holding out his hand.

"What's strange?"

"I was dreaming about you. How long have you been there?"

"Five or ten minutes."

"How are things going on?"

"Pretty quiet."

"No news of relief?"

"Not the slightest. We seem to be quite forgotten out here in this corner."

"Oh-no," said Lennox; "we're not forgotten. The country is so big, and our men are kept busy in other directions."

He turned as he spoke to got into an easier position, and then winced, uttering an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n indicating the pain he felt.

"Why didn't you speak, and let me help you?" said d.i.c.kenson.

"Because I want to be independent. It was nothing. Only my neck; it's awfully sore still."

d.i.c.kenson winced now in turn. A chill ran through him, and his forehead contracted with pain; but Lennox did not grasp the feeling of horror and misery which ran through his friend.

"I shall be precious glad when it's better," continued Lennox. "Did I tell you how it got in this state?"

"No. Don't talk about it," said d.i.c.kenson shortly.

"Why not? I'm all right now. Have I been raving at all?"

"Not that I have heard."

"I wonder at it, for until this morning I've felt half my time as if I were in a nightmare."

"Look here; the doctor said that you were to be kept perfectly quiet, and that I was not to encourage you to talk."

"Good old man. Well, I'm as quiet as a mouse, and you are not going to encourage me to talk. I haven't felt inclined to, either, since I got back. I don't suppose it has been so, but I've felt as if all the veins in my head were swollen up, and it has made me stupid and strange, and as if I couldn't say what I wanted, and I haven't tried to speak for fear I should wander away. But I say, Bob, did I go in to see Roby lying wounded when I came back?"

"Yes."

"Ah, then that wasn't imagination. It's like something seen through a mist. It has all been like looking through gla.s.s cloudy and thick over since we rushed the Boers."

"Look here," said d.i.c.kenson, rising; "I must go now."

"Nonsense; you've only just come. Sit down, man; you won't hurt me. Do me good.-That's right. I want to ask you something."

"No, no; you'd better not talk."

"What nonsense! I'm beginning to suffer now from what fine people call ennui. Not much in my way, old fellow. You're doing me good. I say, look here. Something has been bothering me like in my dreams. You say I did go in to see poor Roby?"

"Yes; but look here, Drew, old man," cried d.i.c.kenson, "if you get on that topic I must go."

"No, no; stay. I want to separate the fancy from the real. I've got an idea in my head that Roby turned upon me in a t.i.t of raving, and called me a coward and a cur for running away and leaving him. Did I dream that?"

"No," said d.i.c.kenson huskily. "He has been a good deal off his head. He did shout something of that sort at you."

"Poor fellow!" said Lennox quietly. "But how horrible! Shot in the forehead, wasn't he?"

"Bullet ploughed open the top of his head."