travel books: fears-it was only because he had been thinking of itthe effect on his nerves had been worse than he had thought at first. ... You cannot go through an adventure of that sort and come out unscathed! It was imagination ! But no! There it was again, and this time it gripped him firmly. ... As the final twitch of his muscles drove consciousness from his brain, he remembered that prick in his elbow some ten minutes before. . . . He half opened his eyes later, to find the whole room ablaze with sunlight, and himself lying on the bed in his chambye a coucher. The flicker of his eyelids caused a loud cry from somewhere beside his head, and he peeped to find the young aide-de-camp gazing down at him with a mixture of horror and surprise. " Mon Dieu !" he cried, as Royston began to move. " You are alive, then ! How you frightened me ! Here, drink this." Hastily he pressed a tumbler of brandy to Royston's lips, and as the fiery liquid trickled down his numb throat Royston felt the beginning of a return of power to his muscles. His mind began to clear too. " What time is it?" he asked gratefully, refusing any more of the brandy for the moment. "And what on earth has happened? " " It is already apres midi, m'sieur," answered the `aide.' "We thought you were dead. The Count is in a fearful state. I must call him up at once on the telephone, and tell him the good news! Ah ! here it is." He reached over to the instrument at Royston's bedside. " The surgeon tested your heart, and even bled you," he explained, whilst waiting for the call to come through. "But you gave no sign. We found you in your chair this morning-with the lights still burning." books

Books > Old Books > A Traitor Unmasked

Page 256

IN SOKIA

fears-it was only because he had been thinking of itthe effect on his nerves had been worse than he had thought at first. ... You cannot go through an adventure of that sort and come out unscathed! It was imagination ! But no! There it was again, and this time it gripped him firmly. ... As the final twitch of his muscles drove consciousness from his brain, he remembered that prick in his elbow some ten minutes before. . . .
He half opened his eyes later, to find the whole room ablaze with sunlight, and himself lying on the bed in his chambye a coucher. The flicker of his eyelids caused a loud cry from somewhere beside his head, and he peeped to find the young aide-de-camp gazing down at him with a mixture of horror and surprise.
" Mon Dieu !" he cried, as Royston began to move. " You are alive, then ! How you frightened me ! Here, drink this."
Hastily he pressed a tumbler of brandy to Royston's lips, and as the fiery liquid trickled down his numb throat Royston felt the beginning of a return of power to his muscles. His mind began to clear too.
" What time is it?" he asked gratefully, refusing any more of the brandy for the moment. "And what on earth has happened? "
" It is already apres midi, m'sieur," answered the `aide.' "We thought you were dead. The Count is in a fearful state. I must call him up at once on the telephone, and tell him the good news! Ah ! here it is." He reached over to the instrument at Royston's bedside.
" The surgeon tested your heart, and even bled you," he explained, whilst waiting for the call to come through. "But you gave no sign. We found you in your chair this morning-with the lights still burning."