"Lord, Perry, how should I know--why worry about such a trifle.
Compose yourself, dear lad. I'll have 'em wake Julia, she was up with
you all night--egad, she'll be overjoyed to see you so much better--"
"Pray no--don't disturb her. Have I been here long?"
"Nine days, Peregrine--touch and go--knocking at death's door,
boy--and raving like any madman."
"What--what about, sir?" I questioned, beginning to tremble.
"A lot o' wild nonsense, Perry--"
"What, sir--what?" I demanded.
"There, there, lad--don't distress yourself. 'T was nothing to
signify--mere sick fancies."
"Fancies concerning what, Uncle George?"
"Well, something about red wheels and a drowned woman in a wood, a
wall, and a door, and suchlike idle stuff. Y' see, Perry, not content
with getting yourself wet through, you must let that brute of a horse
o' yours throw you on to your head; doctors say 't is a marvel you're
alive, and begad, Perry lad, 'tis our firm belief, Jervas and mine,
that you'd ha' died if it hadn't been for your wonderful aunt and
Diana--watched over you like the angels they are--saved your life
betwixt 'em--"
The room seemed to go suddenly black and from the awful darkness my
uncle babbled cheerily, while I, smitten by a nauseous faintness,
strove to speak yet could not.
"Uncle George," said I at last, "is--is she here--now?"
"Who, Diana? No, lad. But be patient, she's only out riding with
Barbara--was with you here all day, she'll be back soon--be patient,
she's never long away from you these days, b'gad--"
"No!" cried I, shuddering, "no! Don't let her come near me--don't let
her touch me--send her away or I shall die!"
"Good God!" ejaculated my uncle George, glancing about helplessly.
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