"You're
cracking
my ribs.
Kipling - Poems
"
"I shan't! " The voice rose to a wail. "My God! I'm blind! I'm blind, and
the darkness will never go away. " He made as if to leap from the bed,
but Torpenhow's arms were round him, and Torpenhow's chin was on his
shoulder, and his breath was squeezed out of him. He could only gasp,
"Blind! " and wriggle feebly.
"Steady, Dickie, steady! " said the deep voice in his ear, and the grip
tightened. "Bite on the bullet, old man, and don't let them think you're
afraid. " The grip could draw no closer. Both men were breathing heavily.
Dick threw his head from side to side and groaned.
"Let me go," he panted.
"You're cracking my ribs. We--we mustn't let
them think we're afraid, must we,--all the powers of darkness and that
lot? "
"Lie down. It's all over now. "
"Yes," said Dick, obediently. "But would you mind letting me hold your
hand? I feel as if I wanted something to hold on to. One drops through
the dark so. "
Torpenhow thrust out a large and hairy paw from the long chair. Dick
clutched it tightly, and in half an hour had fallen asleep. Torpenhow
withdrew his hand, and, stooping over Dick, kissed him lightly on the
forehead, as men do sometimes kiss a wounded comrade in the hour of
death, to ease his departure.
In the gray dawn Torpenhow heard Dick talking to himself. He was adrift
on the shoreless tides of delirium, speaking very quickly--"It's a
pity,--a great pity; but it's helped, and it must be eaten, Master
George. Sufficient unto the day is the blindness thereof, and, further,
putting aside all Melancolias and false humours, it is of obvious
notoriety--such as mine was--that the queen can do no wrong. Torp
doesn't know that. I'll tell him when we're a little farther into the
desert.
"I shan't! " The voice rose to a wail. "My God! I'm blind! I'm blind, and
the darkness will never go away. " He made as if to leap from the bed,
but Torpenhow's arms were round him, and Torpenhow's chin was on his
shoulder, and his breath was squeezed out of him. He could only gasp,
"Blind! " and wriggle feebly.
"Steady, Dickie, steady! " said the deep voice in his ear, and the grip
tightened. "Bite on the bullet, old man, and don't let them think you're
afraid. " The grip could draw no closer. Both men were breathing heavily.
Dick threw his head from side to side and groaned.
"Let me go," he panted.
"You're cracking my ribs. We--we mustn't let
them think we're afraid, must we,--all the powers of darkness and that
lot? "
"Lie down. It's all over now. "
"Yes," said Dick, obediently. "But would you mind letting me hold your
hand? I feel as if I wanted something to hold on to. One drops through
the dark so. "
Torpenhow thrust out a large and hairy paw from the long chair. Dick
clutched it tightly, and in half an hour had fallen asleep. Torpenhow
withdrew his hand, and, stooping over Dick, kissed him lightly on the
forehead, as men do sometimes kiss a wounded comrade in the hour of
death, to ease his departure.
In the gray dawn Torpenhow heard Dick talking to himself. He was adrift
on the shoreless tides of delirium, speaking very quickly--"It's a
pity,--a great pity; but it's helped, and it must be eaten, Master
George. Sufficient unto the day is the blindness thereof, and, further,
putting aside all Melancolias and false humours, it is of obvious
notoriety--such as mine was--that the queen can do no wrong. Torp
doesn't know that. I'll tell him when we're a little farther into the
desert.