It was
in the night watches that my struggles came--though often some unwitting
speech of his would bring back the pain. He took delight in telling me,
for example, how for hours at a time I had been in a fearful delirium.
"The Lord knows what foolishness you talked, Davy," said he. "It would
have done me good to hear you had you been in your right mind."
"But you did hear me," I said, full of apprehensions.
"Some of it," said he. "You were after Wilkinson once, in a burrow, I
believe, and you swore dreadfully because he got out of the other end. I
can't remember all the things you said. Oh, yes, once you were talking
to Auguste de St. Gre about money."
"Money?" I repeated in a sinking voice.
"Oh, a lot of jargon." The Vicomtesse pushed me out of the room, and
after that I was never allowed to be there when you had those flights.
Curse the mosquitoes! He seized a fan and began to ply it vigorously.
"I remember. You were giving Auguste a lecture. Then I had to go."
These and other reminiscences gave me sufficient food for reflection, and
many a shudder over the possibilities of my ravings. She had put him
out! No wonder.
After a while I was carried to the gallery, and there I would talk to the
little doctor about the yellow fever which had swept the city. Monsieur
Perrin was not much of a doctor, to be sure, and he had a heartier dread
of the American invasion than of the scourge.
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