"Your pulse is normal and you have no fever," she said.
"Why am I here, nurse? What has happened to me? Tell me everything."
"No, no; go to sleep now, and in the morning you may be strong enough to bear it."
"I should sleep far better if I knew everything," I replied; "don't be foolish, nurse."
"Dr. Rhomboid has been here, I am told," I said. "What did he say about me? When I saw him in London he wrote my death-warrant."
"Now he has given you a reprieve," was her reply, "and more than a reprieve. In fact, he said that if you got through the operation you would live!"
I was not surprised; I felt that life, and not death, was surging within me.
"Don't try to keep things back from me, nurse," I said. "I remember everything that took place. I remember the struggle on the beach and the darkness which followed. Simpson tells me that I have been brought to Mr. Lethbridge's house, and that, as if by special Providence, Dr. Rhomboid was staying at the Tolgarrick Hotel. What was his verdict?"
"He sent for a London surgeon," said the nurse, "and he told us that if you recovered from the operation you would live. You have recovered."
"Then he made a wrong diagnosis in London. That means I had something growing in me, and now it's cut out I shall live?"
"That's all I must tell you now," she said; "take this and go to sleep."
I obeyed her like a child; a feeling of utter contentment possessed me, and I felt myself dropping into a deep, untroubled sleep.
When I awoke again I had a feeling that it was morning. I knew that the dewdrops were shining on the grass, that the day was new-born; I knew, too, that the sun was rising in a cloudless sky, that the time was summer.
I was in the same room, but somehow it was different. A new atmosphere pervaded it; I saw vases of flowers, flowers that were wet with the morning dew, flowers that had been gathered that morning. Their perfume was as sweet as the spices of Araby. A feeling of delicious restfulness possessed me; I was as weak as a child; but there was new life in my being, a life that would overcome everything. I closed my eyes with the consciousness that all was well; nothing troubled me, no thought of care weighed upon my brain or heart. I caught myself remembering those lines of Browning: