The professor set the
collar-bone--a harrowing piece of work, there being no anesthetics at
hand--and attended to the other hurts, the patient all the while
preserving a dogged and moody silence, and avoiding the eyes of whoever
looked at him.
"Can't understand it," said the old gentleman to himself; "the fellow
acts like a wild-beast as regards his appreciation of human sympathy, in
spite of his refined intellect and cultivation. A wounded animal has the
same instinct to crawl away, and suffer in private."
When brought into the house, Bressant had been laid in the spare room
adjoining the professor's study. After he had done all he could for his
comfort, the warm-hearted old gentleman, being overcome with fatigue,
retired to rest; the patient lay sullenly quiet, wishing it were day,
and, again, wishing day would never come: at length the composing
draught which had been given him took effect, and he sank heavily into
sleep.
It was broad daylight when he awoke, and stared feverishly around him.
The room was a pleasant one, facing the north and east, and the morning
sun came cheerfully in through the open windows, slanting down the
walls, and brightening on the carpet. It was a great improvement upon
his rather gloomy room at the boarding-house, and he could not but feel
it so.
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